Gojou X Reader - Tumblr Posts - Page 2

Vampire // Cinna’s Monstertober Writing Challenge

Tags: Vampire!Gojo x fem!reader, gore, nsfw, mdni, blood kink if you squint, masochism, unprotected sex

Synopsis: Creatures lurk in the night. A particular white-haired one takes a liking to you.

An: I’m so excited to start this challenge with you all! I’ve decided to call it Monstertober (there will be one exception to the monster rule LOL srry).

Overpopulation and a deficiency in food had forced your world into an age of evolution. It started off slow as most evolutions do. It started as just one case: the case of Ryomen Sukuna, the first vampire.

He didn't need food to stay alive. No, he was completely immune to aging, and he only craved one thing: blood. It was noted in his case file that he would drink any type of blood, but he had a strong liking towards human blood. One pint of blood, which is a sustainable amount to lose, was enough to satiate Sukuna for a month. However, vampires since then have gotten way more greedy, sucking humans completely dry recklessly.

Then, they started popping up everywhere. Some were bitten, but the "supreme" were the ones who naturally evolved into vampires without being turned by one.

Humans were now not at the top of the food pyramids. For the first time ever, humans were the prey. To help with the overpopulation, the group of the undead proposed a solution.

Cull the herd.

Once every three months, vampires were allowed to hunt humans for sport. Of course, this wasn't the only time they killed or fed off humans. Rogue vampires feasted upon human blood anytime they wanted, but the more civilized vampires waited for the culling to drink from a human.

Bunkering down for the night, you closed yourself into a small closet in the innermost portion of your house. You made sure every door and window was locked, and you prayed to whatever deity was out there that the vampires wouldn't bother you.

They must've not heard your prayers.

You were clutching a wooden stake in your palm as you heard the crashing through your window. Your other hand covered your mouth, trying to mask your breathing. It was no real use though. The vampire could practically smell you from outside your house.

He effortlessly ripped your closet door right off the hinges. His light blue hair was long, and there were stitches all along his body. He admired with with a wild grin and devilish heterochromatic eyes.

"I seem to have found myself a treat!" He claps his hands together, acting as if he just won a claw machine. "Come, darling. You and I both know you're not going to use that stake."

Your entire body trembles as you clasp the stake harder, aiming it at him. "I'll do it!" You cry out, backing yourself further in the corner.

"This is futile. Don't make it harder than it has to be. I'll try not to kill ya." The vampire gives a wide eerie smile, and his sharp pointed fangs were immediately noticeable. You could immediately tell that he was lying straight through his teeth.

You have to do something or else he'll just toy with you like a mouse. You charge straight for him, rearing the stake back to try to stab it through his heart.

"So rude!" He scoffs as he effortlessly grabs your wrist and yanks it above your head. Your arm almost feels like it's going to rip out of your socket.

"Let go of me!" You shriek as you try to yank your arm back, but he was too strong. His hand only tightened around yours, forcing the stake out of your hand. It falls to the ground with a thud.

"You're lucky you're worth the trouble, brat, or I would've already killed you!" He yells, getting more frustrated with your struggling. His head leans near your neck, and you're entire body tenses. Goosebumps rise on your flesh as he takes his time sniffing you. You let out a pathetic cry as you squeeze your eyes shut, bracing for the bite.

This was it.

Before you can even react, your arm is let go, and the sound of crashing catches your attention. Quickly opening your eyes, you see another vampire has the blue-haired one pinned to the wall away from you by his head. The new vampire was much more built than the first one. He had a head of white hair, but you couldn't see his face yet.

Until, he turns to you as his hand crushes the other vampire's head into the wall. It practically explodes like popping a really full tick. Blood and brain matter splatter against your walls.

Your body is completely frozen by fear as you can't help but stare at the new vampire's eyes. His blue eyes beamed in the moonlight, almost glowing in the dark. He's devastatingly handsome with a sculpted jaw and nose. He had long white eyelashes and full lips. He slowly allows his hand to drop, allowing for the vampire's deceased body to slump against the ground.

Small whimpers escape your mouth as you search for any conviction to run. You have to get away from him. If you had little chance of surviving that first vampire, then you had no chance of surviving this one.

He leisurely walks up to you, eyes never leaving yours until he's right in front of you. He then inspects your neck closely. "Are you hurt?" He asks calmly as if he didn't just end someone's life so casually.

"N-no.." Your voice meekly trembles out. Your knees are practically rattling together from fear.

"Do you have a death wish..?" He asks as he leans away from your neck. His eyes are nearly half-lidded as he looked at you with such a bored expression. He then leans down and picks up the wooden stake that you were holding on to.

"No, I-" You go to explain yourself, but he rudely cuts you off.

"Stab me." He instructs while handing the stake back over to you.

Your mind is reeling, unable to comprehend why he would give you permission to use his weakness against him. "What..?"

"I said stab me. If you don't have a death wish, stab me." He repeats as he tucks his arms behind his back, and he even leans his chest out to you.

You look at the wooden stake in your hand, and you look up at the vampire who just killed one of his own to save you? You raise your hand unconvincingly, and you completely clam up.

"You don't have it in your heart, do you?" He asks as he stares at the stake in your hand. "Even when given the permission, you can't find it within you to kill."

Your head drops in shame. If this mysterious vampire wasn't there, you'd be dead from the blue-haired vampire thanks to your noncommittal attack against him.

"Foolish." He clicks his tongue disapprovingly before snatching the stake from your hand and diving it into his own chest.

"Wait-! W-what-?" You shout in a panic, watching as red liquid slowly starts to stain his white shirt. You immediately move to his aid, yanking the stake out of his chest. "Why would you do that? Do you have a death wish?" Your hands press harshly against his chest trying to stop the bleeding.

"Foolish human." He repeats as his other hand comes up and gently pets your head. "Wooden stakes are a myth, sweets. They do nothing to us." He reveals quietly as his large hand continues to softly rub your head. "See for yourself."

Confused, you slowly lift your hands, and you see the wound had already closed. His body had healed it that quickly.

"I don't... Everyone knows that's your weakness.." You pout as you look at his blood along your hands.

"It's a myth that we allow you to believe, so you all continue your futile efforts to stop us." He reveals as he takes your hands and gently cleans them off with a handkerchief that he kept in his pocket.

"Then why tell me...?" You quietly ask, feeling your heart pound in your chest from a mix of nervousness and adrenaline.

"It's not like you have any real intention to kill me." He flashes a smile at you, and he tosses the wooden stake into your fireplace. "You don't want to kill, yet you don't want to die. Are you looking to score a role as a feeder?"

Your body shudders from the idea. Certain vampires kept "feeders", also known as humans who voluntarily offer up their blood for whenever their vampire is hungry. There was mutual benefit for both parties involved. The feeder was practically granted with protection from all vampires, and the vampire no longer had to hunt for food.

"I'm not a farm animal." You retort as you cross your arms over your chest.

"No, perhaps not." He muses as he slowly tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. "But you're not a fighter either, sweets. Unfortunately, this world wasn't made for people like you." His finger tips delicately stroke your cheek down to your chin, tilting your head to look up at him. "Do yourself a favor and agree to be my feeder. I can't protect you if not."

"What-!?" You shout a bit too loudly, and he gives you a disapproving look.

"I didn't stutter. Be my feeder and live, or stay here and die. Your choice."

You stare at him with a slightly frightened look. Your eyebrows are pinched together, and your lips are in a small pout as your consider his options. He was right. If you stayed behind, you would most certainly die. The only reason another vampire hasn't came to eat you alive is because they can sense his strong aura in your home, warding the others away.

"I... okay, f-fine. I'll be your.... feeder or whatever." You finally mutter out, and he sticks his hand out to you.

"It's a binding vow then. You be my feeder, and I'll protect you from all harm that comes your way." You stare at his hand and take a deep breath. A binding vow that's broken only ends in death, but what choice did you have? Your hand reaches out and shakes his in a defeated matter.

"Great. Glad that's over. Hop on." He immediately instructs as he turns his back towards you. He bends his knees and holds his arms behind him, obviously wanting you to get on his back.

"What-?" You immediately ask, taking a step back from him.

"Well, we aren't staying here, sweets, and I don't know about you, but something tells me that uber drivers aren't going to be out tonight." He sasses as he urges you to get on his back. It was the start of your new life.

As you slowly climb onto his back, his hands hold onto your the backs of your thighs, securing your body to him tightly. Your arms wrap around his neck. "Oh, by the way, I would've protected you for free." He smirks before running a lightspeed away from your home, knocking the breath from your lungs.

*** *** ***

Being Satoru's feeder wasn't all bad. It's been a few months since you two had met during the culling. You've been slowly getting use to living with him.

For one, he's filthy rich, and he has no real use for money. He lives in an entirely too big mansion that's completely paid off. He even has kitchen staff and cleaning staff to take care of the house for him.

For two, he's so... vain and out of touch with reality.

Since he's taken you in, you've learned that Satoru is one of the supreme. His body had naturally evolved in the predator-like state he's in. Though, he claims that he was very strong before evolving as well.

Not only is he a supreme, he's well-known in the vampire community apparently, which you find that hard to believe considering he never leaves his mansion unless it's to attend a night event. You were allowed to leave. It's not like you were his prisoner or anything, but he demanded to be with you no matter where you went to protect you.

You've gathered crumbs of information about him from the kitchen staff and maids, but Satoru was an open book himself as well. He would answer whatever question you proposed, though you couldn't distinguish how much of his answer he was boasting.

The feeding was surprisingly easy to get use to. Satoru rarely fed on you, and when he did, he was extra careful each time. His fangs would sink into your wrist, and he'd drink just enough to get by before promptly releasing you.

He fed at night mostly, which made sense because of his waking hours. He had given you your own chamber in the house when you agreed to be his feeder, and he'd quietly slip into your room at night. By the sixth or seventh time, your body had grown accustomed to his nighttime visits. You'd unconsciously offer up your wrist when you heard the door creak open in your sleep.

Tonight was like any of those nights. Around three in the morning, Satoru quietly slipped into your bedroom. His stomach ached in pain from hunger. He would only drink what he absolutely needed, never quite quenching his thirst for you as he was very cautious with you're well-being. He was practically starving himself.

You were peacefully sleeping in your bed, looking as angelic as ever. He admired your face while you were blissfully unaware. His hand raked through your hair gently, and you stirred just enough to hold your wrist out to him.

If he wasn't so damn hungry, he'd take his time admiring your beauty, but his stomach was grumbling as he stood over your bed. Bending down to your wrist, he took a deep breath of your delicious scent. You probably had no idea that your blood type was rare - the sweetest amongst humans. He got so damn lucky running into you during the culling.

His lips pressed a gentle kiss against the thin skin of your vulnerable wrist. He then pressed another, more sensual kiss into your skin right against the pulse point of your wrist. Feeding was such an intimate act between vampires and consensual feeders, and the fact that you allowed him to do this while you're at your most vulnerable drove him completely mad.

"Sa-toru?" Your voice was a breathy yawn as you must've woken up from his incessant kissing.

"Shhh, sweets. Go back to sleep. I'm just... going to drink a bit.." He whispers softly as he looks up at your sleepy face.

"Drink or make out with my wrist?" You ask with a lazy smile, causing him to chuckle a bit.

"Maybe a bit of both if my feeder allows it." He retorts with a grin before his stomach loudly grumbles.

You sit up slightly as you look at him with a confused gaze. "You must be really hungry." You softly murmur before scooting over in your bed and patting a spot for him. "I'll go back to sleep... just take what you need."

Satoru almost feels like a nervous teenage boy when you invite him into your bed. He doesn't object though, slipping between the sheets next to your warm body. He nearly purrs in contentment. It had been far too long since he had felt warm.

Your body nuzzles into his side, and you gently press your wrist up to his lips. Your eyes had already slipped back closed again.

"Sleepyhead." He muses with a soft smile. His stomach angrily growls at him once more, and he finally decides not to waste anymore time. He flutters his eyes closed, and his fangs pierce through your skin. He's immediately rewarded with the taste of your sweet blood, and he almost instantly feels rejuvenated.

He gently suckles the blood out from your wrist. His hand was idly stroking yours as he drank from you. The air in the room feels so soothing and familiar between the two of you.

He only holds your wrist for few minutes before forcing himself back away from your sweet taste. His tongue gently laps at the the small puncture wounds on your wrist, hoping to soothe the pain slightly. He's still painfully hungry, but he knows he can live off of what little bit he took.

You flutter your eyes open to look at him - having been pretending to sleep so he wouldn't dillydally. "That wasn't nearly enough." You say as you furrow your eyebrows. His stomach growls to only further your suspicions.

"Who are you to tell me what's enough?" Satoru laughs off your concern as he goes to slide out of your bed.

"I'm being serious, Toru." You say as your hand clasps onto his shirt, preventing him from leaving your bed. "Don't think I haven't noticed how sluggish you are recently."

"Who are you calling sluggish? I'm plenty energetic." He argues back as he looks down at you.

"Toru, please. I'm asking you to feed." You pout up at him. "I'm seriously fine. You never ever take a feasible amount."

The sight of you - a human - caring so passionately about him and his needs has his face turning red within seconds. He looks down at your small pout, and he finally relents.

"Only because you said please. Not because I need it or anything like that." He gripes as he gets back comfortable next to you. "Other wrist. That one will be too sore if I bite it again." He instructs, and you offer up your other wrist. However, the positioning is quite uncomfortable to maintain. He'd have to twist your arm to reach your wrist.

"What about my neck..?" You quietly offer, even pulling back your hair to reveal the flesh of your neck. He's almost immediately drooling at the sight.

"The neck hurts worse than the wrists do. Are you sure you want that? It also leaves quite the mark." He informs you, but you've already made up your mind. Your body is turned facing his, and your head is already tilted for him.

"Neck is fine." You answer calmly as you flutter your eyes closed again, trusting him with your life so willingly as if he isn't some monster.

Satoru carefully dips his head down between your shoulder and your jaw, and he once again kisses your skin. It's almost compulsory to do so. A pleasured hum emits from your throat as your hands find his silky white hair.

It's taking every ounce of self control he has not to pounce on you and ravish you in more ways than just one. The primal urges to feed and fuck consume his brain entirely.

He tries to push those thoughts aside as he bites down on your neck. A small moan escapes past your lips, and he can't quite tell if it's a pained or pleasured one. Either way, his dick painfully throbs within the confinements of his clothes.

Maybe it's a placebo, but he swears that your blood is sweeter around your neck. He assumes it has to be because it's closer to your heart. He groans as he sucks the blood from your neck, taking in more substance from you.

The room is filled with small moans and muffled grunts between the two of you. Your neck is incredibly sensitive in the best way possible, making each suckle feel divine from his mouth. Your body shivers in anticipation as you fee your arousal growing - an insatiable heat between your thighs.

Satoru isn't immune either. He can feel your pulse, smell your scent, and hear your pretty moans. He knows the effect he's having on you, and it only works to make him even more horny than he already was.

When your hips start to subtly rock against his body, searching for any friction, all of his self control leaves his body. He immediately moves to pin you down beneath him with his fangs still buried into your neck.

Your hands shamelessly claw at his back through his shirt, and your legs wrap around his waist. Small needy whimpers and whines escape you.

He knows he should stop soon. He's drank almost a pint from you, but his mind is struggling to make his body cooperate. He can't get enough from you. He craves to devour you whole.

"Please.." Your small breathy plea catches his attention as your hips lift up to meet his again, and a new craving takes over his mind.

He pulls from your neck, but he doesn't lap at the bite wounds. Your blood freely trickles down your neck. His breath hitches in his throat as he swears he's never seen anything more erotic in his life.

His hands immediately go to the waist band of your pajama pants as he feels like he's in a frenzy. He can't be bothered to consider the logistics of fucking you and how he might unintentionally hurt you. His brain is only focused on getting his dick into you as quickly as possible.

Ripping off your pants and panties in one solid tug, he throws your discarded clothing onto the floor. "Satoru.." Your small voice whines as you lift your hips up.

"'m gonna take care of you, promise." He mumbles as his one of his hands sink between your thighs and the other works to get his own pants off of him. "Have to prep you first." His pants and boxers hit the ground.

"N-no.." You whimper out, desperate for his length already.

“Yes sweets.” He argues as he settles between your legs. “I’ll hurt you if not.”

“Want you to hurt me..”

“Don’t…” He has to close his eyes to erase the image of you looking down so pitifully, asking him to hurt you. “Don’t say that to me..”

“Please Toru~” You whine as he’s thumb starts to rub gentle circles around your clit. A wet clacking noise filled the room as you were already soaked.

“Such a fuckin’...” He grunts as he gives into your sweet pleas. His hand guides his tip towards your fluttering cunt. “‘m not gonna be able to stop if you let me do this..”

“D-don’t stop.. I want this, please..”

His eyes fixate on your blood stained neck from where he fed on you just moments ago, and he leans his head down to lap up the sweet blood against your skin. “I warned ya.”

Satoru forces his length into your entrance, stretching you out around his size. Your fingernails dig into his back as you let out cries of pain and pleasure. He hurts in just the best way, leaving you wanting more.

“Shit.. feel s’good, sweets.” He moans as he buries himself deeper. Your wet heat slowly envelops him, squeezing around him like a vice. “So fuckin’ wet and tight for me… my good girl.” He purrs as his hips pull back before he sinks into you once again.

“Hah… oh god.. t-too big.” You manage to moan out as you can practically feel your heartbeat in your cunt. The room fills with squelching noises as Satoru rolls his hips slowly at first.

Your gummy walls squishing around him drives him absolutely feral. His caution is out the window as he pummels into you repeatedly. The headboard of your bed smacks harshly against your wall, and your poor mattress wails in agony as he fucks you into it.

“What are you so.. ngh~ .. wet for, huh? Love me using your body, don’t you?” He grunts as his hips snap back and forth. Your eyes start to cross as you swear you can feel him in your throat.

“Y-yes!” You pathetically cry in response. Your back arches up off the bed as you feel yourself already nearing your orgasm. “T-toru-! I.. I think I’m gonna..” You stumble over your words, unable to formulate what you’re trying to say.

“Cum for me, baby. Make a mess on my cock.. ‘s okay.” He slurs into your ear, completely pussy drunk already. In his defense, he hasn’t gotten any in a long, long time.

“Fuuuck~! Ah~ I’m coming..” You cry out to him as your hands grip onto his shoulders. Your toes literally curl your poor cunt clenches around him, juices roll down his cock so leisurely from your arousal.

“Yeeaahh, that’s it.” He purrs as he rides out your orgasm. “Atta girl.”

You slowly start to relax as you come down from your high until you see Satoru’s hands gripping the headboard. “You can take more, can’t you?” He asks in a way where it doesn’t even sound like a question. He’s telling you that you’re gonna take more.

Satoru has to be conscious about how much of his strength he’s using. He’s one small accident away from ripping your headboard off your bed frame.

Still, he uses the headboard as leverage to fuck you harder. “Fuck. C’mere.” He growls as he gathers your thighs and places your legs on his shoulders, putting you in a mating press.

His thrusts don’t relent in the slightest. His heavy balls smack against your plush ass with each stroke. “‘m never letting you go, sweets.” He mumbles as his thrusts start to falter. “… gonna have to pry me away from this pussy. She’s all mine.”

You’re completely blissed out, only able to moan and agree with his delusional ramblings.

“Mine.” He declares again as he rails himself into you. His tip kisses your womb with each harsh thrust. His pleasure starts to coil in his stomach as he’s so close. The headboard completely snaps as he forgets to manage his strength while he’s on the cusp of an orgasm.

Not even stopping for a moment, Satoru leans his head down, and he bites down into your neck again. Your sweet delectable blood coats his teeth and tongue before he pulls away. He bites again and again, completely marking up your neck and shoulders before be spills himself deep inside you. “God… fuck!” He groans as he releases your shoulder.

Taking a moment to catch his breath, he glances down at his seed trickling down from your pretty hole. “You’re makin’ a mess, sweets.” He comments with a lazy smirk before admiring the artwork he created on your neck and shoulders.

You glance up at him with poor needy eyes. Your cheeks are tear stained from the intense pleasure mixed with the bites. His cock twitches pitifully inside you from the sight.

“You can take another round, right? Need to use your cute cunt just a bit more.” Satoru groans as he’s already started fucking his cum back into your hole.

This fic is what made me read sukuna x reader cuz it’s just 👌🏾👌🏾

Then and Now|one

✯pairing: ryōmen sukuna x reader x gojo satoru

✯summary: where gojo’s best friend is the reincarnation of sukuna’s former lover.

✯wordcount: 4.3k+

✯warning: swearing

✯note: omg i’ve literally been sitting on this for 3 weeks but here it is!!! i’ve fallen down a jjk hole and i don’t think i can ever get up

✯tags: @kat-su-ki @lovingtouya

✯playlist

part two

“Satoru! Where’s Megumi? You said he’d be here? Something about looking for a special grade?” you bounced around, grasping his arm and shaking it along with you. You loved annoying him. The two of you had always been close. As a child, Gojo was still as bright and cocky as he was today, he had many proclamations of being your protector. Though, as you two aged, you learned how to protect yourself, becoming a jujutsu sorcerer whilst staying by his side. Of course, you were nowhere as talented as Gojo, but you never let that stop you, and he never used that fact against you.

You were still high in the rankings, a grade 1 to be exact, and you worked hard to get there. Not because you wanted to catch up with Gojo, but because you wanted to make him proud. He was the only one who had supported you through it all. Your parents weren’t much help, but Gojo was there for you when your world was crashing down, when you had broken into pieces he would be the one to put you back together.

Always.

There had never been a time where you had doubted Gojo. Until, maybe now.

“I dunno, I got souvenirs!! Kikufuku Mochi! They’re really good! You gotta eat some with me!” his mouth quirked up into a boyish grin. Gojo never lost his childishness and that was something you had always admired, even if his personality constantly irked you during your tween years. Nonetheless, you both stay loyal to one another.

You couldn’t help but smile at him.

“Why’re ya smiling like a weirdo? You got a crush on me or somethin’? He teased, using his free hand to boop the fluff of your cheek with his pointer finger. He never failed to ruin the moment. Typical Gojo. You sighed, running a hand over your face. “Shut up Gojo, let’s go find Megumi before something bad happens to the kid.” you huffed, earning a laugh from your companion.

___

“You didn’t tell me the cursed object was Ryomen Sukuna’s finger.”

“You never asked.”

“You little-”

“What’s the situation?” he suddenly spoke, cutting you off whilst catching the attention of both Megumi and the strawberry haired male. You knew in an instance that this male was the vessel of Ryomen Sukuna. He emitted the curse energy of Sukuna himself. You always felt a connection to Sukuna and had helped find several clues and his fingers, resulting in the higher-ups permanently putting you on this case. 

 “Gojo-sensei! Why are you here?” Megumi exclaimed, his eyes soon darted to your figure right beside Gojo. “Y/n-sensei too?” he gaped. It was obvious that both you and his mentor were close, though, lately, it felt like there was something deeper going on between both of you. 

“Hey! How are you Megumi?” you chimed, approaching his wounded figure. “I don’t think he’s good Y/n. He’s all beat up!” he responded, fishing his cell phone out of his pocket. “I should show the second-years!”. He laughed as he snapped a few embarrassing pictures to send to his other students, causing Megumi to turn and hide his shame, along with his injuries. 

 “The higher-ups wouldn’t shut up with a special-grade cursed object missing, so I stopped by while doing some sightseeing.” he huffed, knowing Gojo, he rolled his eyes. You did understand his dislike for the higher-ups. They tended to be more traditional and strict with their ways, while Gojo was…not. Of course, you would always stand by Gojo, even if it meant going up against your superiors. It was all or nothing with him. 

“Then Y/n showed up! I don’t even know where she came from!” he loudly exclaimed, as if he wasn’t that skilled to the point where he could sense you the moment you step into the vicinity. You rolled your eyes, whilst the two boys sweatdropped. “So, did you find it?” he queried, staring directly at his student. 

“Um… Sorry, but I ate it” the strawberry-haired male awkwardly chimed in. 

A pause. 

“For real?”

“For real.” the two replied in unison.

Gojo moved to observe him, leaning in close to his face. His chin propped onto his right hand in contemplation, a little pout forming onto his lips. He leaned in close with a laugh before pulling away from the male. Sometimes Gojo forgot that boundaries existed. The thought made you sigh, your mind suddenly recalling the time Gojo had tried to convince you to take a bath with him while still being in the tub, the bubbles barely covering what they needed to cover. Of course, Gojo enjoyed teasing you, along with being able to see your cute flustered face. You were pulled out of your daydream as he suddenly spoke, not realizing that you had completely missed their conversation. 

“Then give us ten seconds. Once ten seconds are up, come back to us.” Gojo demanded as he stretched. You stretched your hand out towards him, taking his souvenir to protect it. You knew Gojo was craving to fight Sukuna. You could feel it. You were aware that he was stronger since he had only ingested one of twenty cursed fingers of Sukuna, but that still did not ease your anxiety. 

Megumi, knowing how much of an overthinker you are, gently grasped your hand hanging on your side, lightly squeezing it in reassurance, as if to say ‘He’ll be okay, he’s the strongest.” You proceeded to nod at him and return the gesture. You pulled out a clean handkerchief, moving to slowly wipe the blood away from his face, aware of the fact that it would take some time to get him the proper medical attention he needs. 

“But…”

“Don’t worry, I’m the strongest.” he cheekily responded. That eased your anxiety even more. You rolled your eyes once more at his cockiness. A small part of you hoped that Gojo would be graced with the opportunity to get his ass kicked, but a bigger part of you was aware of how strong Gojo was, and knew how quickly he would be able to defeat Sukuna’s vessel. 

You slowly sat beside Megumi, straightening the short length of your skirt while stretching your legs. You had a love-hate relationship with your jujutsu uniform, love because you looked amazing in it, and hate because a certain someone made your skirt length a tad bit too short. Of course, you wore shorts underneath, but it was still irrational to force all of the females to wear something as revealing as a skirt. 

Technically, it wasn’t mandatory for you to wear the uniform but Gojo insisted as it would raise “morale”.

As Gojo continued to ramble on, a dark figure was already ascending, aiming for Gojo himself. 

“Behind you!” yelled Megumi, frantically reaching for your hand to pull you away but you just brushed him off, patting his knee to reassure him. “Don’t worry Megumi, I got you, just let Gojo have his fun.” he slowly nodded, still listening to his mentor ramble about mochi. 

In a split second, Gojo was sitting atop of Sukuna, whilst Sukuna was crouched between your thighs, his arms on either side of your legs, the skin of your thighs barely brushing against his forearms. You laughed at his incredulous expression before raising a hand to pat his cheek and mockingly pouting before blowing him a kiss. Leaving him stunned, he quickly snapped out of his daydream before continuing to attack Gojo. 

___

Your eyes fluttered open, the bed of flowers soft underneath your fingertips. You glanced around, hoping to find something, someone, anything familiar within the vicinity. Panic engulfed you, bile steadily rising in your throat. Tears began to gather in your eyes. Being in unfamiliar places had always given you a large amount of anxiety, especially since you’d just been sitting beside your pupil while watching your best friend fight the king of curses. 

“What are you doing just sitting there dumbass?” a gruff voice called from behind you. You whipped your head back, hoping to find someone you know, but no such luck. The person behind you was quite intimidating. They emitted straight power and confidence. Unable to say anything, you stood there gaping at the stranger.

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EXCUSE ME BUT THIS WAS GOOD TOO

uhmm i know it’s super broad but a gojo satoru fluff? nothing like domestic AU but more like close childhood best friends where they both clearly like eachother but reader is a really big tsundere

A/N: imma try making this a oneshot! :D also there MIGHT be some spoilers for the manga but i’ll try to keep them as vague as possible

genres: fluffy!! slight angst; 1.4k words

the three times he says “i love you” [Gojou Satoru X Reader]

The first time Gojou Satoru tells you he loves you was during a simpler era in which nothing was expected of the two of you in spite of your powerful heritage as jujutsu sorcerers. It was a time when you could still laugh at the mistakes you made during training sessions, the adults slightly more forgiving than they would have been if you were a few years older.

You’d been left to your own devices after dinner, having chosen to stay in your room throughout the evening and night. The sound of your door sliding open doesn’t alarm you as it could only ever be one person: the boy whom your parents are taking care of… your closest and only actual friend.

You fail to spare him a glance, eyes glued to the old book that weighs heavy in your tiny hands—in both physical weight and spiritual significance. A smaller, more petty reason for your lack of acknowledgement is the person himself who’d now taken it upon himself to simply stand right in front of you, blocking the light from reaching the yellowed pages of the book written by your ancestors.

“Why’re you still studying?” he asks, leaning forward a bit more, obscuring your vision further. Whether it’s unintentional of on purpose, you cannot tell. “It’s so easy,” Gojou continues, referring to the technique he so easily picked up during the day, “I can show you—”

When he grabs your wrists, your head shoots up, lips parted as you ready yourself to reject him, to tell him to go away and let you study by yourself. However, the words escape you when you notice the blood gushing down his forehead, his right eye shining in the midst of the dark, red liquid.

“What happened?” All frustration is drained out of your very soul as you grab his shoulders, guiding him to sit down on your bed. Your positions now swapped, Gojou stares up at you, silent. “Does it hurt?” you ask, holding your hands to either side of his head, his temples covered by the warm palms of your hands.

He hums in response—neither a yes or a no—and appreciates the fact that you don’t push for an answer. His eyelids flutter closed as the sensation of your reverse cursed technique flows effortlessly into him. The feeling is comforting beyond all words, warm and cooling at the same time, it all originates from your soft hands and tender touch.

The broken skin heals and the words slip off his tongue:

“I love you, (Y/N).”

Your technique abruptly stops as your hands fly off his face as though his skin were boiling hot. Gojou opens his eyes to look at you again but by then you’re gone, leaving him alone in your room with the book you’d abandoned and his racing heart.

The second time those words spill out of his lips, they’re spoken in a tone so casual and careless that you find yourself more irked than flustered—even if he was, then, already someone you’d developed feelings for.

Gojou had stared at you from over the round frames of his sunglasses, brilliant blue eyes twinkling with the usual playfulness they always seemed to carry no matter where he was or what was happening. His gaze was also expectant—as were the looks of your fellow jujutsu classmates—in a way that you just couldn’t decipher.

What did he want you to say? What were you expected to do?

Gojou Satoru had, of course, spoken those words out loud in front of all your mutual friends. It was perhaps, in hindsight, not the best idea, seeing as your response was a simple punch to his shoulder followed by a brisk walk out of the classroom.

The white-haired teen merely sighed, as though not realising that he’d, in no way, shown any form of seriousness during his confession; acting as if the blatant rejection was no fault of his own demeanour. But he’s not an idiot, of course. Reckless with his feelings, yes, but no idiot.

“You’re a dumbass,” Getou chuckles, slipping into the chair of the desk that was beside Gojou’s, his arm casually slung over the backrest of the seat with his cheek resting against his hand. He looks at his white-haired friend with amusement but also slight pity, knowing fully well how much he meant what he’d said, even if it definitely didn’t sound that way.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replies with a pout, crossing his arms behind his head while he sticks his long legs out from under the table and gives them a little stretch. “That was most certainly just a prank that played out perfectly well.”

“Perfectly, you say?” Ieiri Shouko comments from her seat at the back of the room. “All you did was piss (Y/N) off.”

“Exactly!”

It’s only a few hours later when Gojou realises he may have annoyed you a little bit too much.

Having not seen you at all ever since the very successful prank, he decides to look for you at your room and, much like his prank, succeeds in finally finding you. He lets himself in and shuts the door behind him before sauntering over to your bed where you sit at the end, legs crossed and eyebrows furrowed as you type furiously on your flip phone. Gojou feels an odd sense of deja vu when you ignore him but he shrugs it off easily.

The mattress sinks under his weight before his head lands on your lap. In the midst of making himself comfortable, he slips off his glasses and tosses them aside, hands rubbing at his eyes lazily. When he opens them once more, he stares right up at your face, peeking at you from underneath your phone. Your own eyes flicker towards him briefly but return to their original focus, eliciting a whiny huff from the young man.

He grabs your free hand and smushes the palm to it into his cheek, smiling like a fool when you let it rest there, your fingers tickling the edge his hairline. Your skin is calloused and scarred, the results of years of perfecting your inherited cursed technique, but it soothes him all the same. His heart stutters when you begin to caress his skin with the pad of your thumb, rubbing his face with tender affection.

“I meant what I said…” he whispers as he lets his eyes flicker closed, fully immersing himself in the feeling of your touch, just missing the way you look at him. Your phone lowered, you stare at him silently as you continue to keep his face nuzzled in the palm of your hand. He falls asleep a short while after and so do you.

The third time he says those words, Gojou fully prepares himself to watch you run away yet again. He tells himself that if you do what he expects you to do, he’ll never say those words again—not to you, not to anyone else. He’s convinced that if you, the person who knows him more than he knows himself, are unable to love him then he won’t even try to love anyone else.

The third time he says those words, he says them as you eat dinner together in your room at the school, the sentence tearing through the sound of clinking cutlery and the YouTube video playing on your phone that you were watching together. He says them out of the blue, after quietly staring at you eat and laugh instead of the screen for the past twenty minutes.

He says them after thinking to himself, ‘I really do love you.’

And you… you stare at him with an expression he’s never seen before. Your eyes are wide, lips parted but there’s no shock on your face, there’s only… relief and—

“I love you, too,” you reply before letting out a shaky breath as though the words themselves took immense effort to say. You smile widely, the scars littering your face bending to the shape of your joyful expression. A source of great insecurity over the years, Gojou can’t help but find every single one beautiful.

He resists the urge to say something stupid, to make this all-too-serious atmosphere become slightly less serious—a terrible habit of his and one that you immediately pick up on after years of dealing with his foolishness. You grab his hand and intertwine your fingers with his—a gesture that sends his heart flying off to god-knows-where.

“You can say whatever it is you want to say.”

Ah, he always knew you were the one for him.

“… does this mean I can touch your butt? :D”

when megumi asks gojo to teach him how to ride a bike, he panics–how would he teach a kid how to ride a bike when he doesn’t know how to ride one either? instead of admitting that, however, gojo goes out and buys a kids’ bike with training wheels, reassuring megumi that ‘of course he knows how to ride a bike, he’s the best cyclist in the world’! megumi doubts him the moment gojo’s confident facade falls and he eyes the bike weirdly. 

you’re in the bath at your small apartment when gojo calls you, saying he desperately needs you. you immediately jump out of the tub and dry yourself as you attempt to simultaneously throw on your uniform. when you get to gojo’s place, you quickly look around in fear that something is wrong only to find little megumi and tsumiki crowded around a gaudy blue bike. megumi looks up at you, a bike helmet a size too big pulled over his messy hair. 

“are you going to teach me how to ride a bike?” he asks as he scratches at the velcro straps on his knee pads. 

huh?

everything clicks into place when gojo comes around the corner with unnecessary biking equipment piled high in his arms. you grit your teeth. of course gojo would ask you to teach megumi how to ride a bike, you and suguru were the only ones who knew how to ride one in the first place. you didn’t think it was too useful of a skill when you and your classmates were younger, especially after the young gojo clan head had called you a country bumpkin for knowing how to ride a bike, but you suppose it was important enough that gojo would deliberately go out of his way to get you to teach a kid how to bike. 

as gojo deposits everything in his arms, you crouch down to megumi’s height with a smile on your face, pushing your still wet hair out of your eyes. you reach forward and adjust megumi’s helmet. 

“how long have you been biking with training wheels?” you ask, pulling the helmet straps a little tighter and clipping them into place. 

megumi purses his lips as he looks away to think. “a few weeks,” he says, “i want to be the first one in my grade to know how to ride a bike without training wheels, though.” you let out a little laugh as megumi tucks his chin away from you, his cheeks a soft pink. 

“alright, megumi, i’ll make sure that you’re the first person in your grade to ride a bike.” you extend your pinky towards him, “i pinky promise,” you say, tilting your head with a bright smile. megumi shyly links his pinky with yours as your smile widens. 

teaching megumi how to ride a bike is hard. gojo hovers over your shoulder as you run behind megumi as he pedals on his bike, watching with a small unhidden grimace every single time you let go of the back of the blue bike and tell megumi to ‘keep going’! not only does having gojo next to you make it significantly harder to instruct megumi, but you also have to listen to him attempt to console and give wrong advice to the kid. 

you groan outwardly as megumi topples over on his bike a few feet away from you. as gojo begins to walk towards him, you bring your arm up and block him. 

“satoru,” you warn, “if you continue to give megumi wrong advice again i will fucking punch you.” you turn towards him and glare sharply. “let me do this.” 

you walk towards megumi and gojo falters, watching as you take the boy into your arms and pat the dirt off of him and make sure his knee pads are on tightly. the evening wind blows through your and megumi’s hair as you crouch down and pick up the ugly, scratched bike and help megumi settle back onto it. tsumiki stands up from the park bench she’s seated at and makes her way towards gojo, watching as you and megumi begin to race even further down the park’s bicycle only section. you let go and cheer loudly as megumi finally gets the hang of it, jumping up and down before bounding after him as he bikes around and around. 

“i like them,” tsumiki tells gojo, letting gojo reach down and pull her hair out of her face as the wind begins to pick up even more.

“me too,” he admits softly, watching you and megumi turn around, listening as your and megumi’s elated laughter fills the empty park.

𝖍𝖎𝖘 𝖐𝖎𝖘𝖘, 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖗𝖎𝖔𝖙

summary: the king has been struck by never-ending grief when he found out about his wife's infidelity. he has her ordered to be killed, but afterward, he is no longer the same. every night he marries a woman, and every morning he has her killed. the endless cycle continues until the night you're chosen to be his wife. instead of letting him ruin you, you tell him a story. you tell him a story that he just has to know the ending to. and so begins the story of one thousand and one arabian nights.

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader

genre: angst, fluff, enemies to lovers, strangers to lovers, royal au, based off of the story from 1001 arabian nights

word count: 10.7k+

warnings: dark content, mdni, 18+, mentions of killing, mentions of taking virginity, has the gallows and a noose in it, praise!kink, corruption!kink, cunnilingus, fingering, cum eating

note: for those who don't know, baba means dad, and aziz/azizam means my dear in farsi. this story loosely follows 1001 arabian nights, but not completely. i wasn't gonna sit on my ass and write them all out 💀

also a big, big, thank you to @jadeisthirsting for beta reading, ty sm bby!!

jjk masterlist

---

The palace smelled deeply of rose petals, a scent so distinctly comforting that you couldn’t help but smile giddily as you walked down the vast halls, looking at the different amenities the palace had to offer as you searched for the room you knew your father would be residing in. 

The more you walked, the darker the halls got and the less the smell of rose lingered in the air, a warning to stay away from this part of the palace. Though you had no choice but to ignore the prominent warnings, your posture became more frigid as you hummed a tune you had heard in the bazaar to keep yourself busy. 

You were well aware of the fact that your father resided right next to the king's quarters, so as you slowly opened his door to make sure no noise was heard, entering as you noted your father sitting on the edge of his bed, his wrinkly hands enveloping his tethered face as he could barely bring himself up to look at you.

“Baba,” Your heart dropped, running over to his frail body, your hands checking his forehead as your eyes filled with worry, “What’s wrong? Does your back hurt? Oh,” You noted his worn-out hands, “You have to let the king find another vizier,” You kneaded his hand with yours, “You cannot be his helper forever,” You cracked a gentle smile, but instead of his usual banter, he shook his head, still not looking up from his bed as he sniffled.

“Baba?” Your voice dropped to a whisper. Your father never cried. Never. Not when your mother died, not when the old king died, or even when you had managed to ruin his silken clothing. Despite his hardships, he was the man of the household, and he held himself to that standard.

But here, he looked like the shell of a man. His shoulders were hunched, lips pale as he shuddered, pushing your hands off of his back as he weakly stood up. 

“Y/n,” He stared at the door, eyes quite dead as he refused to look your way, terrified that if he did he would crumble to his knees and beg for an apology. Even worse, if he looked at you, his resolve would shatter and he’d leave the room as fast as he could, “Azizam,” You watched as a singular tear rolled down his cheek, “You will have to forgive me.”

You shakily rose, brows scrunched up in confusion as you let out a question laugh, walking over to him to see what he was talking about, what had gotten him so shaken up that he used such an endearing nickname he had never used before this day.

“The king has asked for you to spend the evening with him,” He muttered, voice hoarse and raspy as he broke down into tears again. 

“He…” Your shaky hands flew to your lips, eyes wide as you stumbled back, “He what?” Your frantic questions went unanswered as your father let more of his endless tears fall, wet lips holding back silent sobs as he turned back.

The king, a dreaded name for those around the palace. You childishly thought that being the daughter of the vizier would somehow spare you of the torture, of the horror that came with going into his quarters at midnight. 

He said nothing as he crumpled down to the floor, hands covering his eyes as you stared at the door, the same one you had entered through, and the same one that seemed to mock you as your hands shook at your side. 

One evening pleasuring the king meant spending the next morning dead.

---

Servants flocked to the room shortly thereafter.

They paid no attention to the old man as they ushered you outside, their nimble fingers working swiftly as they led you to a completely different room, stripping you bare as you worked mindlessly.

You fell into the large basin, cold water splashing across your body as they worked in silence, some here and there whispering words of pity to one another as they gossiped about your father's weakened state.

You knew that deep down, sooner or later, this day would come. That one night they will take you to get clean and pretty so that the king can spend his lonely night with a virgin to bed, and by morning have her dead so that she may not betray him.

You could guess why you were giving off no emotions as their hands scraped your body rid of the dirt and dust, rubbing rose petals across your flesh, running water through your hair as they worked quickly and effortlessly. 

At this point, you knew they had done this many times to know to be quick with the king's impatient temper.

You seemed to be like a mindless doll as they carried you out of the tub, staying quiet as one lady braided your hair, gentle as she wove flowers into the crown of your head. 

You watched as the other carefully dotted the roses across your cheeks, dipping her finger into the jar of honey as she brought it up, careful not to let any of it to waste as she swiped it across your lips, her eyes filled with deep sorrow as you stared out the windows and into the dark veil of night.

“You look very beautiful, azizam,” The old lady behind you muttered, her kind hands letting go of your hair as she gave your shoulder a gentle pat, “I’m sure your father would be proud of his daughter for serving the nation. 

Serving the nation in your one day demise.

“You have not been…” The old lady sighed, looking away as her hands fell to her side, “You have not been bedded yet, yes?”

You slowly shook your head, muttering out a quiet no as she nodded, ushering out all the other ladies as she came to your view, dropping down so that she was level with your knees.

“You are the vizier's daughter, so you must know,” She stated, her hands holding your cold ones as she pressed a soft kiss to the backside of it, “After you go into his room, he will tell you what he wants. When morning comes, he will have you killed.”

“I have heard it’s quick and painless, " She sighed, giving you a sad smile, “Yet those who have experienced it cannot tell the tale, and so I don’t want you to weigh too deeply on my words, okay aziz?”

The old lady looked down at your hands as she took in a shaky breath, lifting your chin as she patted your cheek carefully. 

“The time is almost midnight,” She said and your tongue felt heavy in your mouth, “He should be expecting us soon.”

---

His quarters were cold, that was the first thing you noticed. 

You expected frost to be on the windows, and your breath to be visible in the moonlight, but you could only shudder as you looked around the candle-lit room, wondering when the apparent king was going to make his appearance. 

Your shoulders were covered by the robes they had given you, but you still shivered as you took a slow step forward, expecting an echo to follow suit. 

You jumped when the door behind you clicked opened, and you looked behind to see his looming shadow behind you, growing slowly as he took steps forward, and you could feel his icy gaze taking you in.

His white hair matched the surroundings, and his eyes, oh his eyes. So blue, such a color seemed to be unknown to humankind. You wanted to reach in and hold his face so you could see if he had diamonds in his sockets, but you knew to restrain yourself, straining your spine as you matched his stare.

You had heard of the king's attractive outward appearance. Even when he had ordered for his old wife and her concubines to be executed, many of the women of the nation volunteered to fill her place as they never thought a man with such grace could be so cruel. 

“My king,” You said with a deep bow, the shawl that loosely covered your shoulders almost slipping off your skin at the movement. 

“Are you Y/n?” He asked, his voice deep and rich as he circled you, taking in your hair, the way your face seemed to shine brightly with the help of the candles, and how the robe around your shoulder hung snuggly around your body. 

“Yes,” You bit out, swallowing your fear as you turned with him, not wanting the man to see your true emotions. 

“You’re the oldest daughter of Ja’far?” His gaze traveled across your frame, settling seconds longer on your lips until they left as they glanced at the window. 

“Yes,” You said through clenched teeth, the unsettling blue in his eyes reminding you that you were simply a lamb in the lion's den. 

You watched as he slowly nodded, his jaw set in place as he glanced around the room, his nose wrinkling at the overpowering rose scent that lingered in your neck and wrists. 

“I’m Satoru,” He said, though you already knew that, “And I can assure you that these next hours aren’t as you’ve heard,” He mentioned with a tilt in his voice, but that only made your heartbeat more erratically, most likely the opposite of how he wanted you to react.

He worked by taking his gloves off, slender finger after slender finger, and he dropped them somewhere to the side, running a hand through his hair as he turned his back towards you, sighing deeply as he pinched his nose.

He moved to get something behind you, a drink the servants had laid out for him as he took in a heavy sip, his lips tainted red with the wine as he stared at the back of your head. 

His hands were slow yet delicate as they found their way up to your hips, and you let out a quiet yelp as you felt his cold fingers tracing the patterns that adorned your robes. 

“You’re pretty,” He muttered, his breath fanning over the skin of your neck, making you shiver, almost making you forget where you were as you felt your knees wobble from the weight of your body, “Haven’t seen you before, have I?” And you weakly shook your head, your heart pounding roughly against your ribcage as you felt his lips land on the skin beneath your ear, surprisingly gentle and warm as they kissed and nipped.

“You’re sweet, too,” He observed, and you could have sworn that have only lined your lips with honey, but he seemed intent on his statement, his lips moving more quickly as his hands reached up to the strings that tie your robes together.

And you froze, knowing that if he were to proceed, he’d surely kill you in the morning. And wouldn’t allow yourself to die tomorrow. You could not die to a man who wanted nothing more than to take your humanity and then dispose of you as if you were stale rice. You had a life planned outside of the palace walls, and you knew that deep down, this king could be manipulated in his fragile state of mind.

Your eyes darted around the room, trying to find anything to secure yourself until they landed on a jeweled knife, its handle crusted in rubies and emeralds and your eyes widened slightly with a mad, certainly mad, idea.

It was sharp and cleaned with precision. Sharp and versatile, and you didn’t doubt he had used it in the act of killing. 

“That knife!” You sputtered out, stuttering as you stumbled forward out of his grasp, almost hoping you could swallow the words back at the way he snapped his head towards you.

“What?” 

“A man once used that exact knife to get through the mountains of Zagros,” You quickly regained yourself, mind running quickly, two sides of yourself debating between doing this or sleeping with the king to quicken your eventual death.

The king stared at the knife for a couple of seconds before looking at you once again, his brows furrowed. 

“Excuse me?”

You straightened your shoulders once again, clearing your throat as you tried to regain your confidence. 

“A man that went by the name Aghā Ali,” You said, voice barely coming out of your throat as you tried to think of something as quickly as you could in your messed state, “When his daughter fell ill to the plague, he became desperate to find a cure. The village apothecary told him to go to the Zagros mountains and cut the red flowers he’d find in a field,” You nodded your head in the direction of the knife, “And he used a knife just like that one to cut the stem of the flowers when he found them…”

Silence fell in the space between the two of you, and you could see the rise and fall of his chest as millions of ideas running through his crystalline eyes.

“Are you telling me a story?” He asked incredulously, almost as if he couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of his mouth.

You cleared your throat, trying to shrug it off as you stared back at the knife.

“I’m simply stating that a man once used that knife before to save his daughter.”

“How do you know he used my knife?” He was testing you now, you could easily tell. His lips had curved into an evil smile, a cat's grin as he took a step closer to you, sensing the fear that still radiated off from your body. 

“W-well, not your knife, but one that looked much like that,” You explained, swallowing dryly as you tried for a sweet smile, one that he might like, as you continued.

“His late wife had given it to him as a present, and so he used it wherever he went, for whatever that he could.”

The king didn’t say anything, so you took it as a sign that he wasn’t angry yet.

So you moved, putting on the facade of somebody confident in their story as you slyly moved behind him, causing him to follow your quick feet as you walked over to the table, careful as you picked up the heavy dagger.

It was strange in your hand, and you could tell how uneasy he felt with the weapon in your hand. 

So you set it down, nodding as you swallowed your spit once again.

“Ali didn’t know his way around the mountains, so he got lost frequently in search of the flower,” Your fingers traced the rubies, shaking as you turned the knife over, running a pinger across the blade as you winced when it slit your skin, your blood staining it a bright red as you felt his eyes follow you. 

“And because he had no map he went off of instinct alone,” You moved around the table, eyes darting to the slick pillows and shawls fit for a king. 

“At night, he would lay under the moon and use his knife as a way to cut the animals open so that he could eat them for dinner. The mountains didn’t have anything big such as deer or goat, but he could hunt the occasional rabbits, even duck if he were lucky enough to pass by a lake.” You looked up at him from your lashes to see what he was doing, and much to your surprise he was staring back just as intently. 

“The man knew that with each passing day his daughter would be getting sick and sicker, and though she was stronger than his wife in terms of physical strength, the plague took no longer than a month to kill even the strongest of the king's soldiers, according to the village apothecary.”

Your robes felt heavy on your sides as you moved around the room, feeling the weight of everything slow you down as you tried to quickly think of more things to drag the story on. 

“So he continued the track across the mountain, getting weaker by the hour, more tired by the minute and he still could not find the flowers he needed to heal his daughter.”

“Why go through so much?” The king interrupted, clearly annoyed with the way your story was going. 

You stammered at the question, brows furrowing as you tried to make sense of it. 

“Go through so much?” You repeated, shaking your head, forgetting who you were and where you were as you tilted your head to the side, “ I’m not sure I understand,”

He shook his head, looking at the dagger as he simply shrugged. 

“The old man must be withering away in these conditions. If the girl would die in a matter of weeks, why should he push himself to such an extent?”

“Because it’s his daughter,” You quickly argued back, eyes narrowing as the king moved forward, taking off his heavy coats as he sighed in relief at the release of the material. 

“And?” 

“Well…” You sighed; realizing this must be difficult to explain to this particular man, “He cares for her and he doesn’t like to see his daughter in pain. He’s going through all this hard to make sure that she’ll be alright.” He scoffed as his hands found their way to a bowl, taking out one of the dates as he chewed on it before he spits the seed out. 

“That seems like a figment of the imagination,” The king chewed and then swallowed, his blue eyes never leaving yours as he explained, “Fathers don’t care much for their daughters.”

A part of you boiled in outrage at the statement. 

“Perhaps some don’t, my king, but that doesn’t mean all fathers carry no ounce of care for their daughters,” He could see your tremor fade off as it soon got replaced with fiery anger. 

“No?” He asked coyly, talking out another date as he repeated the same actions. 

“No,” You said without letting your voice waver. 

“Then why did your father offer you up tonight? Surely he could have picked your other sister if he cared for you that much. Or the servant that’s standing right outside my door. Or maybe even the girl who cleans up the horse shit in the stables. Surely a fathers love my reach beyond that point, no?”

You could feel your resolve crumble as you listened to his words, your heart heavy isn’t the small expanse of your chest as you refused to breathe properly. 

Did he simply offer you up as easily as the king was saying? Just like a lamb for slaughter?

“Just as I was saying,” He continued, happy with your obvious shock, “I find it rather hard to believe that Ali would go through the mountains of Zagros to find a flower for his dying daughter.”

He looked pleased with your silent state, watching keenly as you swallowed the thick lump accumulating in your throat. You took in a deep breath, controlling the shake in your voice as you stared at something behind him. 

“The old man was relentless,” You continued the story, pretending that your conversation with the king was nothing, and missed the way his face fell for a second, taken back by the way you could compose yourself with clear tears making their way into your waterline, “But the flower was hard to find.”

“One night as the man was cleaning out his rabbit, he stopped when he noticed the rabbit had red petals lining the fur near its lips.”

“And so he cut the stomach to find it full of red petals, the same color as the flower he was so desperately trying to find.”

“The next day he went in search of rabbits with the same fur, and that night he was able to catch another one with the same petals in its stomach.”

“And so the old man followed the trail of rabbits until he one day, miraculously stumbled across a field full of the red flowers.”

“He was eager as he stuffed them in his satchel, memorizing the path he had taken as he passed by the old streams and lines of trees, his bad bursting at the seam with red relates and green stems.”

You stopped, tilting your head to the side as you gave out another yawn, oblivious to the fact that in the minutes you had spent thinking of more to tell, and in the hours you had spent explaining the complexity of the story to the king, the sun had begun peeking its way through the mountains. 

“So when he got back home, his daughter told him that she only had a couple of days left to live before the plague got to her,” You didn’t notice how the king had risen from his satin seat, walking slowly over to you as his impatience got the best of him. 

“And then?”

You whipped your head around at the sound, heart beating wildly in your chest at his unexpected voice. 

“He cut the flowers up and mixed them in with tea, and each day he’d double the amount of the flowers he would use,” Your bodies were close to each other, so close that despite his tall stance you could feel his breath hitting your cheek, his eyes following the rise and fall do your chest. 

“Did she not like the tea?” His voice was taunting and you shook your head, trying for the same menacing smile he was giving you. 

“No,” You moved away from him, your robes swaying behind you as his gaze traveled across your swift movements, “She loved it. Each day she’d ask for triple the number of flowers instead of double,” Your eyes were trained on the window that pointed to the east. 

“But,” You gnawed on your lip, “Ali didn’t realize that what he was doing was wrong,” You could hear him moving from behind you, his feet padded on the ground. 

“And why is that?”

Your eyes darted to the window, the way the sun amazingly shone through the stained glass and colored his snow hair a mix of blues and yellows, something that your somber mind never thought you’d see again. 

“The sun is coming up, my king,” You noted, your voice catching in the back of your throat as if you couldn’t believe what you were saying. It seemed that he too, couldn’t believe such a thing as he looked behind himself in doubt. 

The two of you said nothing as his eyes widened for a second, lips parted in a shock as he looked at you in relative incredulity. 

“My king…” You whispered, voice hoarse as you swallowed thickly, praying that your devious plan was working its way to the man, “What should I do?”

The king could only stare at you in somewhat disbelief, eyes narrowing as he rubbed tiredly at his eyes, a yawn escaping his lips as his kind ran with millions of thoughts about what he should do with you. 

Never had somebody stalled him for the entirety of the night, let alone made him want to know more about the woman before he had her ordered to be killed. And despite him deep down knowing that this would surely ruin everything he had done to barricade his lonely heart, he shook his head slowly, brows scrunched up in confusion as he admitted to himself that he wanted to know the rest of your story. 

“No,” He muttered out to himself, shaking his head as he glanced over at you, but it weighed heavily in the expanse of his room, “Come tonight and finish the story.”

And he didn’t need to say it to know that you had managed to get the king hooked. 

---

When the door creaked open with the maids once again lamentable at the fact that they’d be leading you to your death, they were surprised to still find your robes adjourning your shoulders, and the look of both dissatisfaction and something more lining the king's face.

They all stared at him, waiting for the same orders that would tumble out of his mouth every morning, but he just waved them aside, pinching the bridge of his nose as he muttered out a quiet, “I expect you to finish tonight,” Before he shrugged his coat back on as he stalked out of the room.

As he moved past the servants, all the ladies stared back at you, mouths hanging open in shock, their hearts pounding in their ears, mirroring yours as the old lady who had bathed you the night before took a tentative step into the bedroom. 

“Y/n…?” She asked slowly, testing to see how you would react, to see if he had done anything that could have broken both you and the cruel king to such a point, “Is everything alright?”

You stared at her, giving her a slow nod of your head as you couldn’t believe you were able to see the sun rising and hear the laughs of bewilderment that came from the servants behind the old lady.

“Did he say he wants to see her again?” One of the younger girls peeped up, and everyone snapped their heads over to her, the question everybody was wondering finally spoken out loud.

“I think he did,” One of the girls behind her answered, still not believing what they were hearing.

“What did you do?” Another one asked, testing gazes all focused on you, curious, begging to know just what you had done to break the streak of killings.

“I,” You sighed, rubbing your throat as you pushed some hair behind your ears, letting out a skeptical laugh, “I just told him a story.”

---

That night, they did the same thing as the previous one.

They stripped you down, this time a bit more gentle as they weren't much grime to scrub off, but still generous in the amount of fragrance they dabbed all over your body. 

“Tonight,” The old lady who you had come to learn was named Nasreen, muttered softly, quiet enough for only you to hear, “Draw out your stories. Make them more interesting than the last,” She whispered into your ear as she led you back towards the king's quarters, “I have never seen the king so,” She paused looking for the right word, “Forgiving as he was last night. You must have made an impact on him,” Her voice was laced with pride yet worried, “Don’t forget to make him more enthralled tonight than the last, alright?”

You merely nodded, tongue heavy in your mouth as you thought of all the stories you had come up with in the hours leading up to now, that in the hassle of the palace trying to get you prepared for the king you came up with the most fantastical stories you could think of. 

“Y/n,” She stopped you right behind the familiar door, “I wish you all the luck,” She pressed a quick kiss to your cheek, scuffling away as the clock near midnight once again, fearful that if she stayed long enough she’d get too attached to you. And she had learned her lesson before.

Your eyes were trained on the door handle, hands filled with heavy lead as you raised them to the gold knob, giving it a slow twist as it opened easily into the freezing room.

It was dark, just as you remembered it being the previous night. The chilly air wrapped itself unwillingly across your frame, and with each heavy step, you took forward, the more dread-filled itself inside your head.

“Close the door,” His voice called out from the bundle of blankets and pillows that were laid out on the floor. You jumped when you noticed he had been there the entire time, shutting the wood quickly behind you as you shuffled inside.

“My king,” You gave him the customary bow, your heart pounding roughly in your ears as you heard some noise come from his side of the room, the ruffling of fabrics as he stood up, walking his distance towards you.

He said nothing as you lifted your head, his sapphirine eyes meeting yours as they stared boredly ahead, as if he could be more amused, and grunted, muttering something to himself as he walked away, picking up a date from the bowl as he pitted it and munched on it slowly.

“You seem displeased,” He noted, looking at your frigid body, “Are you not comfortable?” His white hair moved as he tilted his head to the side, trying to figure out why you seemed so reserved.

You chuckled a bit in surprise, not thinking him to be of the right mind to ask such a question.

“My king,” You started, thinking of the nicest way to phrase what you were going to say next, “Forgive my outward appearance but…” You laughed again, almost to yourself that he could even be confused, “I must admit, I have reason to be drawn away.”

He looked back at you, eyebrow cocked as your fingers picked at each other, your mouth brought in a thin line as you looked around the room, anywhere to escape his heavy gaze.

“If you are not comfortable standing,” He gestured to the space to his side, “There is ample room for you to reside as you finish your story,”

You swallowed thickly, thinking of what would happen if you agreed to his offer. Sitting next to him, in such proximity, could insinuate things that you were trying to hold off for as long as you could.

But your feet were already tired from standing for so long last night, and with the hecticness of the day that followed, you found your body disobeying your rational mind as it slowly brought you over to his residing area.

You could see his sly grin growing at your willingness to come over, and you watched as he moved his slender legs to the side, letting you almost break to the ground as you let out a small groan of pleasure at how soft the fabric lay beneath you.

His eyes widened slightly at the sound, his heart beating rapidly as your lids shut for a second, your face momentarily blissed out as you craved for such relaxation until they snapped back open, remembering just where you were.

“S-so,” You cleared your throat, moving away as far as you could as you rest your back on the wall, “If you so please, I can continue with the story of Aghā Ali.” You paused to see his reaction, and he gave a little nod of his head, allowing for you to continue.

“The flowers he had been told to get from the mountain were useless, and even worse, doing more damage than good. The apothecary who told him to find the flowers was a greedy man who had been in love with Ali’s wife, and now daughter, and could only see them as his own or as dead.” You peeked over to see what the king was doing and was somewhat surprised to see him staring back intently at you.

“In a jealous and insane rage, the apothecary had been poisoning the bread that Ali and his daughter ate, and despite all his best tries, Ali seemed immune to the lethal dosages he was receiving. So, in hopes of trying to get rid of him, he told Ali that the flowers found in the Zagros mountains would be the only cure,” He sat up, supporting his head in his hands as his eyes narrowed.

“Why not kill him?” He asked and you paused, licking your lips as you smiled, glad to have anticipated his question beforehand.

“Because killing Ali would mean that he would no longer be allowed to go to Jannah, and the apothecary was weary of the sins he committed.” His eyes shined a darker shade of blue at your statement. 

“Unfortunately for the apothecary, Ali was a bright man and could pick up on the flowers' dangerous properties. Ali was also aware of the apothecary’s jealous fit and quickly put the two and two together. So, instead of wasting time spending his rage on the apothecary, he decided to wait.” You crossed your ankles together, adjusting your robe as you shivered, the air still cold no matter how much you adjusted your shawl.

“To wait?” He interrupted, lips pursed and brows furrowed in confusion. You got worried that he was losing his interest in your story, but he sat up, his white hair falling as curls on his face, eyes still shimmering blue as he tilted his head, “He decided to wait?” 

His childish demeanor not only made you startled, but you could help but let your lips tug into a smile, and you tried to cover it up with a cough as you nodded.

“Ali was a very observant man. He could tell that whenever his daughter ate the bread, the sicker she got. So he waited, feeding her only bone broth and tea, without the flowers, of course,”

“And just as Ali had suspected after he stopped feeding her the bread and the flowers, she got healthier with each passing day. When the apothecary realized that Ali had once again won over his devious plan, he gave up,” You looked over to the jewel-encrusted knife, “And the apothecary slit his throat as a final testimony to his dying will.”

You could see how the king's eyes widened, his lips parting as he became even more confused. 

“That's it?” He interjected, “He dies?” Bile rose to your throat, terrified that you had only upset the king until you tried to calm yourself down, your plan steady in your head as you raised your hands in a gesture to calm him down.

“For that story, yes, my king, but I also happen to know another story that you might enjoy,” It was a sudden change, but you wanted him to forget who he was for a second, to look past everything so that you could continue.

You could see something happening behind his stoic gaze, how his eyes narrowed once again, trying to sniff out your ingenuity, but you offered him a tender smile, one that held more behind it than he could tell, and the king only sighed, laced with annoyance and anger because of your stranglehold on his curiosity, and he glanced out the window.

“Well, hurry on with it,” He muttered, falling back down as he picked up another date to chew on. 

And you grinned widely and didn’t care if he could see.

“My king, I doubt you’ve heard the story of the seven voyages of Sinbad…”

---

And so, the cycle continued.

You found yourself in his quarters night after night, evading death by ending on a cliffhanger that the king could only hear if he extended your death by one more day. Every night, you’d finish the story and start on another, prompting the king to a circle of never-ending stories.

The palace, stalked by your boldness to make the king enamored by your storytelling, began working like clockwork, giving you time to yourself to sleep during the day, as well as time to think up new and enticing stories the king may like.

You could tell he had a knack for adventures, and so you tried to make each one more exciting than the last. He was fond of poems of love and war, though he seemed to prefer stories of erotica more.

He was cruel, and even in the daytime, when you didn’t see much of him, you heard of his doings. While he seemed to be keen on not killing you until you run dry of things to tell, he still ruled with an iron fist, and the woes of the nation were only going unheard.

“Y/n,” The king interrupted you one night, pushing himself up by the elbows as he looked at you in your bundled-up corner, “What do you see?”

Your brows scrunched up in confusion at his question, and you squint to see what he was looking at.

“I’m sorry, but I’m not sure I understand,” Your fingers fidgeted with one another as the king scoffed and he licked his teeth, weaving his hand through his hair as he motioned for you to come closer to him.

You slowly obliged, crawling over to where he was sitting as you gave yourself some space from his side.

You could notice his features more clearly here when the candle could illuminate his features better. His hair was arctic white, white than the snow that would litter the ground in the colder months. And his skin was pale and easily flushed red, almost as if the man refused to go outside in the summer. And his eyes, you could recall just how entranced they made you when you saw them at first. They seemed so hypnotizing, so surreal, that had this man not sent a chill through your bones, they might have put you under his charms spell.

“In the paintings, what do you see?” His eyes were trained on the wall, and you looked ahead, your mind reeling as you took in the different men and women painted in the photo, and what the artist could have meant when they drew it.

“I see…” You looked a bit longer, tilting your head to the right to get a better view, “A man being seduced by a woman,” You inspected the painting longer, “She seems like a witch of some sorts, maybe an enchantress,” You gnawed on your lip as you took in the background of the mural, “And she’s been able to lure him to his demise, judging by the red on her robes.”

You looked to the side to see what the king was thinking, only to him glancing at you, and you felt your cheeks heat up as you quickly looked away.

“I don’t see where you got the seducing aspect,” He admitted, and he shifted his weight onto his other hand.

Your brows furrowed at how he could miss such an obvious message. You raised your hand, pointing out to the woman as he followed the direction, “You see how her wrist is turned as she’s greeting him? Normally, you’d see people who try to romance one another have opening gestures, but she'd be more closed off and alluring. She dressed in red with minimal jewelry, which can mean that the man prefers somebody dressed down rather than inviting.” You explain and the king let out a small chuckle.

“You got all that from how her wrists were turned?” Your cheeks heated up once again as his eyes twinkle at your obvious embarrassment, and you looked away, shrugging as his smile only grew.

“Many of the artists I know explain the little details to me,” You muttered, “And you asked how I interpreted the piece. You got my answer,” He wanted to coo at the way your lips pouted, at how much less tense you seemed to be over time, and just how alluring you seemed to be when you childishly scooted away from him.

“You know artists?” He asked, perplexed by the outside life you shared and he knew little of it.

“Of course,” You nodded, “The bazaar is full of them. If I have time I walk around aimlessly, for the fun of it. You meet many interesting people where you’d least expect them,” You rubbed your nose, your eyelids growing heavier as the night continued.

“The bazaar,” He repeated to himself, and you glanced over to see him looking longingly at the painting, “I used to be quite the fanatic of the bustling streets.”

“You don’t go anymore?” You asked and he shook his head. Had he not been adorned in royal clothing and his title so glaringly obvious, you would have felt as though you were having a simple conversation with a friend, not the tyrant king everybody had come to fear.

“They’ve become a rather dark staple for me,” He admitted, “I can’t say I’m most eager to go back.”

You scoffed, your shoulder shoving his as his eyes widened in surprise by your out-of-character move.

“Everything has become a dark staple for you, my king. You cannot expect to outlive your past if everything you see reminds you of it,” Even sitting, he towered over you, and he had to crane his neck to stare at you in the eyes.

“There are some things I prefer to remember,” He gritted out, his lips turned into an unpleasant snarl as his eyes darkened, clouded by memories.

“I’m not saying you should forget, my king,” You toned your voice down in hopes of calming him down, “I’m saying that you move on.”

He scoffed, cheeks tinted a fiery red as he puffed his cheeks out, his stance now defensive as he turned his head away from you.

“What should you know?” He bit out, rolling his eyes at the thought of somebody like you understanding the utter betrayal he had gone through. The feeling of his heart being ripped apart piece by piece until everything in him stopped functioning because his entire world had come crumbling down.

“I don’t know,” You told him, your voice soft as if carrying itself to his fragile mind, “But heartbreak is an unstoppable force, my king, and you cannot stop it from ruining your state of being. But it’s better if you move on and be-”

“I can’t move on!” He instantly roared, his voice shaking as he whipped around towards you, his shadow great in size as it dwarfed you in its presence, “Can’t you see that?” His voice wobbled for a second, and in his shaking glare, you could see his eyes water, how they seemed to dim in their crystalline glow as his lips shook.

You raised a hand to his chest, gently pushing him back as he easily complied, and you sighed, pushing some hair out of your forehead as silent tears rolled down his cheeks.

“Your wife is dead, my king. You had her killed. She cannot haunt you any more than in thoughts,” You could hear his sniffles, how he shook when he took in a breath.

“I can’t move on,” He repeated thickly, “It hurts so much,” 

“The pain is bare, my king,” You said slowly, “But what you have caused in its wake is destruction. You cannot think yourself to be healing in the act of death.”

You had feared you had said too much, but he only looked at you, hiccups leaving his mouth as his head fell onto your shoulder, and felt his tears wetly stain your robes.

“You don’t deserve this,” He said, “They didn’t deserve it,” He groaned into your coat as if realization was finally dawning on him.

“I’m sorry,” He wept out, and at this moment he was no longer a king, but a weak man who had his share of the world. He muttered it out over and over again until his cries and his apologies filled the air in the royal room.

You didn’t know who he was apologizing to. To you, to the women, he had killed, to himself, or to the man he killed when he began his endless cycle of murder.

“Satoru?” You tried for the first time, his name foreign on your tongue you felt his shaking stop, his wet lips breaths away from your skin that was revealed as he accidentally tugged on your robes.

“Stay,” He whispered into your neck, his breath hot against your skin as he moved around, shuffling so that he was off of your body, yet somehow he managed to bring you onto his lap, “I don’t care for a story,” He muttered as he looked up at you, “Sleep here tonight,” His large hands steadied themselves on your hips, gentle as you slowly nodded, his lips wet as they traced the skin near yours, soft and caring, a far cry from how you thought they’d be.

“But…” You were worried that he'd be tired of you by morning, realizing that you’re not what he bargained for, but the king shook his head, almost as if he could read your thoughts.

“I just want you to stay, nothing more,” He muttered against your skin, your fingers subconsciously rubbing his hair as he sighed contently at the feeling.

“Okay,” You muttered out, your lash fluttering against your cheek as you nodded, feeling his lips curl into a small smile as you relaxed into his hold, his arm doing all the work as they held you to his chest, cradling you to his body as if you were his only lifeline.

You knew that it was the king that was holding you as if you were his only support, that without you to hold at this moment he would sink into the floor below your bodies and disappear forever.

---

When morning came you felt a heavy arm wrap itself around your waist, and your eyes groggily opened as you felt little puffs of air hitting your neck, and you turned around to find the king fast asleep.

You moved away a bit, and felt his hand dip from your body, and didn’t see his eyes snap open to see you rising, your hair messed up, eyes groggy but still beautiful as he could only stare at the way the sun illuminated your soft skin.

“Mornin’,” He muttered, not used to waking up to a woman without feeling the ache of the night before, but the way you laughed softly at his tired state brought him back to reality.

“Good morning,” You replied, rubbing your eyes as you yawned, a gentle smile making its way up to your face as you watched him turn onto his back, his eyes still heavy from sleep as you giggled.

“I need some water,” You muttered and he cracked an eye open, getting ready to stand up until you pushed him back down, “I’ll be right back,” You corrected and he grumbled something out, blue eyes shutting anyways as sleep took a hold of the king once again.

You rubbed your eyes one last time before you stood up, groaning quietly as you stretched your legs, making note of the fact that you had never slept so comfortably before as you made your way to the door.

The hallways were lit with candles, and you quietly shut the door behind you as you tiptoed your way out, looking around to find two of the palace guards standing outside, already anticipating you from the way they instantly looked at your frame.

You had never seen them before, and while you were familiar with the guards that usually stood outside, these seemed more menacing than usual.

“Good morning,” You said sheepishly, trying to move past one of them when he blocked the way.

“Um,” You scratched your head, looking around to see if there was anybody familiar, “I’m sorry, but I need a pitcher of water for the king’s room if you’ll let me…” You went to outstep the guard but the second one now blocked your path.

You looked up at them in confusion, your lips pursed together as you laughed uncomfortably.

“May I leave, please?” You tried for another laugh, but their faces remained stoic.

You had never seen them before, and you doubted they knew you judging by the way their faces remained unchanged. Their swords were perched on their hips, and their gazes never altered.

“Come with us, miss,” The first guard said, his voice deep as he took a sudden grip on your elbow, rough as he pulled you away without letting you walk.

“W-wait, excuse me, I just need some water,'' You quickly explained but they said nothing as they led you down the hall, their face never changing as you tried to wrangle out of their tight grips.

“Sirs! Please!” They said nothing as you thrashed around, their hands only holding you with a more bruising force as you tried to break free, “I only need a pitcher, that’s all,” Your eyes were frantic, heart in your throat as you tried to think of anything you had done to warrant such behavior.

“They’re always so fuckin’ rowdy,” One of them muttered to the other, obvious displeasure on his face as his fingers tightened around your arm.

You tried to think of what he was referring to when your eyes widened in understanding.

“The king knows me!” You shouted, “He’s asked for me not to be killed!” You tried to explain but the guards only laughed, and you felt your chest fall as they led you down a passage you had never been through before.

“I’m Y/n!” you explained, but they had no idea who you were, “I’m a friend of the kings!” But you didn’t even know if the king would call you that. You told him stories to keep him entertained and you out of the execution chambers, but these guards snorted at your statement.

With their strength, they had practically lifted you off the ground, and no matter how much you kicked your legs and screamed for them to let you, they seemed intent on leading you to wherever you were headed.

A voice in the back of your head already knew where.

“Please!” You shouted, your eyes tearing up, “Ask the king, he knows me!” And one of the guards behind you decided that he had had enough of your shouting, and used his unused hand to slap it roughly over your mouth, muffling your screams.

Your breathing got shallower and rougher the more you tried to break free, and the darker the hallways got the more your body weakened, and you felt yourself grow limp in their holds as they stopped in front of an iron door.

One reached into his pockets as he brought out some keys, flipping through them until he found the right one. He jammed it in the hole and the door swung open, revealing the horror that you had guessed would be inside.

An array of gallows sat in the middle, the ground littered with dried blood as you screamed again.

“I-I’m his storyteller!” You explain hurriedly, but the guards don’t seem to mind as they bring you closer to the noose, “I tell the king stories!” That got one of the guards to laugh, and you whimpered as the noose came closer into view.

“Ask the king, p-please!” You cried out, tears wetting your eyes as your voice caught in the back of your throat, “I tell him stories! I’m a friend of his!”

It meant nothing to the guards as they heaved you up onto the wooden pedestal, grasping your hands behind your back as they tied it over and over with scratchy rope, their hands rough as they pushed you forward, wrapping some dirtied cloth around your mouth to silence your screams.

You felt your tears collect on the cloth, and you felt lightheaded as one of the men began securing the noose around your throat.

“Stand on the trapdoor,” One of the men gruffed out but you hurriedly shook your head, trying to tell them that you weren’t who they thought you to be.

Tired of your antics, the man shoved your forward, and you stumbled and your eyes widened as the noose tightened around your neck, your breath lodging itself in the little crevices of your lungs.

You watched as the men walked over to the front, their hands outstretched to pull the lever as they stopped when they heard a loud crash happen outside the door.

Three sets of eyes snapped to the iron working as it slammed open, revealing a panting king as he stared widely inside the room, wasting no time as guards poured in, the maids that usually came to collect you in the morning puffing out air as they sighed in relief, relieved to find you alive.

“What the fuck is happening?” Satoru shouted out, his eyes raging as he saw you atop the gallows, cheeks stained with tears, mouth covered, a noose around your neck as he felt his breathing momentarily stop, “Y/n?” His eyes widened in shock as he saw the noose around your neck, your cheeks glistening with tears as your screams were muffled.

His eyes snapped over to the two guards, their expressions comedic had they not been seconds away from killing you.

The king was quick in his movements as he rushed towards you, quick as he climbed the gallow, his slender fingers nimble as they worked the noose off of your neck, and then quick to tug down the tear-stained cloth that covered your mouth.

His eyes were feverish as they searched you, his hands on either side of your face as he checked for injuries.

“Are you,” His voice wavered for a second as you stared back up at him, both of your hearts pounding at the same pace as he tried to catch his breath, “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

All of the guards and servants watched in fascination as their ruthless king fell apart, his hands shaking as you smiled gently, shaking your head no to his hurried question.

“I,” Your throat was hoarse, and you realized what had led to this mess in the first place, “I just want some water,” You sheepishly admitted to Gojo’s frantic stare, and could see his resolve crack as he gave you a quick laugh, cradling your head gently as he led you out of the execution chambers and back into the forgiving bright light of the hallways.

---

The following night, the servants were extra careful as they prepared you for the king.

Their hands were more forgiving as they scrubbed the dirt off of your body, and their fingers kind as they slathered lotion upon your neck. Their smiles were caring as they rubbed rose petals across your wrists, and their words were hushed as though not to disturb you.

They could tell without asking questions that you weren’t how you usually were and didn’t doubt that going back into the king's chambers would be more nerve-wracking than ever.

The robes they had dressed you in were softer than usual, and they kept it low with the fragrance as though not to give you a headache after everything you had gone through in the past couple of hours.

“Y/n,” Nasreen gently shook your shoulders to wake you out of your trance, “It’s time to go.”

And so you silently followed her on the familiar path to his room, your head heavy with pain as she knocked once, and then twice on the door.

It swung open after a couple of seconds to reveal the king in a disheveled state, his hair in disarray, eyes darker than usual as he seized you up, opening the door a bit wider so that you could come inside.

It shut quickly behind you, and you didn’t have time to turn around to say goodbye to the old lady before the king, Satoru, had led you inside.

The air was heavy as the two of you refused to look the other in the eye, unsaid guilt present in your stances as you went to open your mouth.

“My king, if you’d so wish, I can contin-” You didn’t have any time to prepare for the way his body threw itself at yours, a heavyweight pushing itself into your chest until you were roughly backed into the wall, his hand the only thing saving your head from bumping harshly into it.

His lips were hungry, ravenous, as they searched yours. They were agile and quick, not giving you time to breathe as his hand cradled your jaw, tilting your head ever so carefully so that he could gain better access to you.

You felt your tongues and teeth clash with one another, and despite your inexperience, you tried to match his quick pace. Any logical reasoning flew out of your head as his soft lips traveled upward, kissing your cheek, your forehead, and anything he could to remind himself that you were alive.

Your eyes opened as you felt him move downwards, his mouth hot against the column of your throat as he nipped at the skin gently, his teeth somehow gentle in their way as though not to hurt the fragile skin.

He’d press chaste kisses anywhere he could, his hands secure on your waist as the king looked up at you, and for the first time since your arrangement, you saw real fear in his sapphire eyes.

“Thought I lost’ya,” He muttered into your skin, his hands grasping onto the fabric of your robes as he tried to tug them off, “Thought I fuckin’ lost’ya forever,” His voice shook with raw emotion as your hands flew to his hair, bringing him back up as his hands worked at the knots that secured your robes together.

“It’s gonna,” You sighed as the cool hair hit your naked skin, your nipples pebbling up as your cheeks heated up in embarrassment, “It’ll take a lot more to get rid of me, my king,” You tired fo a joke but the words died down on your tongue as he latched onto one of your breasts, his hands occupying the other one as he kneaded it.

“Don’t joke about that,” He murmured against you, your nipples glistening with spit as he detached himself from you, “Don’t ever wanna think about it,” He whispered, and your eyes fluttered shut as his slender fingers worked their way down to tracing the skin on your stomach, and you almost sealed as they traveled down dangerously to the apex of your thighs.

He fell to his knees, a true sight to behold as his hair ruffled, your hands clawing into his white locks as you weakly held him in place.

His tongue was hot as it licked at your skin, slow as it neared the area where you were sure was burning up and wasted no time as he slid a finger past your folds, into the slickness of your cunt, and you groaned audibly at the feeling.

It was much different from your fingers, and he was skilled as he added another, your eyes and teeth clenching at the stretch.

“Yer doin’ fuckin’ amazin’,” He muttered in awe at the way you sucked him in, at how wet his fingers became from just a couple of seconds fingering you, “Yer so fuckin’ tight - shit - h-haven't you ever been…” And he trailed off when you looked away in embarrassment, and his lips parted in understanding as you covered your mouth to silence your whines.

“Oh darlin’,” He muttered, moving away from your pussy as he came back up, pressing a quick kiss to your lips as your eyes watched his every move, “Have you never been touched before?” And even he seemed to forget that he only wanted virgins, yet you could weakly nod, your skin flushing as he hungrily looked at it.

He’s going to ruin you.

“Well you’re just fuckin’ drippin’,” He said thickly, showing you his fingers as you looked away in embarrassment, but he quietly cooed, sleeping his fingers down your mouth, your eyes widening as you close your lips around them, brows furrowing at the odd taste.

“Sweet as shit, darlin’, better than any of the honey they’ve been rubbin’ on ya,” He muttered, his fingers working quickly as they went in and out quickly, his other thumb rubbing your clit as your eyes rolled back at the heavenly feeling.

“T-toru,” You whined thrashing around in his hold, “F-fuck it feels s-so good,” You hiccupped, your voice weak as you could rarely phrase things together. It was a far cry from how you usually wear, but the man was slowly tearing you apart.

His eyes widened in admiration at how sweetly his name rolled off your tongue, his ministration quickening in pace as he pressed a gentle kiss to the inside of your thigh.

“You’re fuckin’ beautiful, you know that?” He muttered against your skin, his fingers wet with your nectar as you cried into your hand, “Prettiest thing I’ve ever seen,” You could feel the knot in your stomach tightening at his relentless movements.

“Ugh, Toru, please,” You cried out, your fat tears rolling down your cheek as you couldn’t contain your wanton moans anymore, “Fa-faster!” You were begging, your fingers curling into his hair as he grinned at your unraveling.

More quickly than not, you felt your vision go white, the not snapping as your climax came, the sweet orgasm washing over you as you almost went limp. Had his arms not been supporting you up, you would have crumbled. You could feel yourself spasm around his fingers, but he was slow as he pulled them away, his tongue flushing outwards as he licked them tentatively, moaning at how sweet your essence was as it coated his mouth.

He watched as you went to pull your robes over your body, naively thinking you were done, but Satoru pushed your hands back, shaking his head as his smile menacingly grew.

“I’m not done yet sweetheart,” He moved up as he kissed your lips, your release flooding your taste buds as his spit mixed with yours, and you moaned into his mouth, not used to such a euphoric feeling, “Gods, Y/n, I’m just gettin’ started.”

---

You woke up to your legs aching and throat hoarse from more than just crying.

Your eyes were blinded momentarily by the sun, but you felt a heavyweight stern across your chest, and you looked down to see Satoru’s long arm covering your bare breasts.

Your cheeks heated up as flashes of last night came to you, and suddenly you could barely think straight, shuffling around so much that it woke the very king up.

He was slow as he tried to remember where he was, but a flash of your hair and your awkward smile made him grin charmingly, his arm tightening around your waist as he pulled you deeper into the warmth of his chest.

“Did I wake you?” You asked quietly into his skin, causing him to shiver as the way your shy hand reached up to hold onto his naked hips, to hold him as if he were a staple into your lifeline.

“I was already awake,” he muttered into your cheek, kissing at the mark he had made the previous night, “You’re a beauty when you sleep,” He admitted and you duke your head deeper into his chest at his words.

“My king,” You blinked, swallowing thickly as you looked up at him, terrified to find a monster but instead finding a devoted man, his eyes deep as they stared back down, caring as his lips pursed at the title.

“Satoru,” he muttered, “Don’t call me king,” His fingers played with your hair, his white hair wild as you giggled softly.

“Alright, Satoru,” Your nose nudged at his bicep, “I have a confession to make.” You saw him glance down at you in momentary worry but your eyes twinkle in a playful, childish manner, and he grinned right back.

“I have no more stories to tell you,” You whispered, “They’re all done.”

Satoru said nothing for a couple of minutes as his soft breathing filled the air around you two, and your heart stopped for a second before he let out a loud laugh, joyful and juvenile as his eyes crinkled, his ars pulling you deeper into his body if possible as he littered your face with kisses, hugging you as though you were going to whisk away at any moment.

“I was wondering when you'd run out darlin',” He exclaimed, pressing a light kiss to your lips as he looked down at you adoringly, “Because it’s time I return that favor,” He moved your hair out of your face as he pressed another kiss to your forehead, “I doubt you’ve heard the wondrous story of the woman who somehow stole my heart."

12:03 pm  — gojo satoru

synopsis. gojo tries to convince his first years that he was able to pull you.

contents. fluff, crack??, whipped!gojo, mentions of having a kid, he is SO in love with his wife it's disgusting, the first years are sick of their teacher

“[name] sensei is a good looking woman, isn’t she?” yuji remarked, nonchalantly propping his feet up on the desk. “you think so too, right gojo sensei?”

a sly smile played on the corners of gojo's lips, eventually blossoming into a wide, dreamy grin. “good eye yuji! she's undeniably the most beautiful woman on this planet.”

megumi, seated at the desk beside yuji, couldn't hide his grimace.

nobara's expression mirrored that of a disgruntled sea urchin. “dream big, you two. she’s way outta both of your leagues.”

“she is, isn’t she?” gojo sighs dreamily, his gaze far away. a dopey grin settles over his face; like a man walking on air. it was deeply unsettling to the first years to see a grown man behave this way.

megumi rolled his eyes and muttered his disapproval, choosing to ignore his sensei, who had casually seated himself backwards on a chair.

gojo propped his chin with both of his palms, leaning closer into the first years students. “do you think i’d stand a chance with a woman like her?”

megumi buried his face in his hands, audibly groaning in response.

“a sensible woman like that and you? fat chance.” nobara deadpanned, squinting disapprovingly at her teacher. her negative comments elicit a grunt from the snow-haired man.

yuji’s eyes flit nervously from kugisaki to gojo. 

“sensei! i think you have a chance with [name] sensei!” yuji tried to reassure his white haired teacher, offering a thumbs-up. gojo responded by affectionately ruffling yuji’s hair.

megumi couldn’t help but speak up. “she’s a married woman, you know,” he mutters to his friend.

yuji’s eyes widened,  “you’re kidding! who do you think got the honor?” 

“but she’s so young!” kugisaki exclaimed, slamming her hand on the table. 

their discussion is cut short when the shoji doors of the classroom slide open abruptly.

with hands on your hips, you stood sternly before your first year students and their teacher, an air of authority about you.

satoru couldn't help but gulp; you were indeed captivating when you were upset. it’s not his fault that you look so cute when your eyebrows furrow and you puff up in anger.

“i waited for half an hour in the courtyard to start today’s lesson and yet here i find my students, along with their sensei who should be in kyoto for a meeting.” a wry smile graced your lips, sending a chill down everyone’s spine. the three first years bowed their heads in shame.

yuji thinks this is the first time he’s seen his teacher nervous. a bead of sweat appears on the side of gojo’s face.

“honey!” he quickly stands up and walks towards you. with every step he takes, nobara’s face scrunches up at his disgusting conduct. 

“don’t.” you warned, raising a finger up to keep satoru at an arm’s length. he respected your wishes to some extent, grasping your hand and placing it within the hold of his own. the diamond on your ring finger glistened as satoru toyed with it.

gasps filled the room as yuji and nobara observed the display of affection. just how inappropriate could their sensei get, and why were you allowing it? what would your husband think?

satoru tenderly caressed your hand in his, cradling it as he leaned in closer. “please forgive me; it was an honest mistake.”

“honest mistake my ass. yaga told me that this is the second meeting you’ve skipped out this month,” you stated, peering fiercely into his blindfolded eyes. satoru’s cocky demeanor wavered, replaced by a nervous chuckle.

“the first time was when i took you to naha, remember?” he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. “and if i remember correctly, you enjoyed our night out,” your eyes widened, recalling the romantic trip satoru had organized. 

feeling the heat rise to your cheeks, you attempted to pull away, but his grip on your hand tightened.

“forgive me?” his voice softened, lips curving downward, giving him the appearance of a dejected kitten.

a sigh escapes your lips. he was going to be the death of you.

“fine. but this is the last time,” you warned, “and you owe me for covering for you.”

satoru straightened up, nodding fervently. “have i mentioned how much i love you?” wrapping an arm around you, he placed a kiss on the top of your head, despite your futile attempts to stop him.

“this is…” yuji’s jaw dropped.

“so inappropriate! shame on you!” nobara’s chair makes a harsh screech with how fast she leaves it to come to your aid. 

“kugisaki–” you attempted to calm her down, but she clung to your elbow, desperately trying to pry you from satoru’s embrace.

satoru’s hold on you tightened as he wrapped his other arm around your frame, pulling you close. he plops his chin on top of your head and resists nobara’s attempts to free you. like hell he’s letting anybody take his girl, not even his own student.

“crushing on a married woman is one thing, but to openly flirt with her– ” kugisaki struggled. you tilt your head in confusion. 

satoru’s strong arms flexed as he fought to maintain his hold on you. he nuzzled your neck. “’m fine right here,” he inhaled deeply, as if trying to take in as much of you as possible.

“[name] sensei! how can you stand there and let this man disrespect your marriage?!” nobara implored, wide-eyed, disregarding all respect she had for her teacher.  “how will your husband react when he finds how gojo sensei behaves around you?” she looks desperate, and you want to laugh at the sincerity behind her actions. you get it now.

only your idiot husband would pull a stunt like this.

“i hope your husband can fight because i’m willing to fight him to the death for your hand,” satoru mutters from your neck. you take your hand from nobara’s shoulders to shove the six-foot-three giant away.

“you seriously didn’t tell them, satoru?” you ignored his whiney protests as you created distance between the two of you. 

“tell us what?” kugisaki demanded. yuji was on the edge of his seat, nervously watching the unfolding scene, while megumi put his head down in embarrassment.

satoru looks at you with a deep frown on his face. uncertainty clouds your mind as his silence forebodes something. wetting his lips with his tongue, he quickly closed the gap between you, too fast for you to escape. a secure hand rested on your lower waist as your husband dipped you down to deepen the kiss. 

had you not been so absorbed into the kiss, you would have heard the scandalized gasps from your students.

you managed to place a hand on his chest to separate yourselves, “satoru, stop.” his eyes remained fixed on your lips, but he complied.

“yuji, nobara.. satoru and i are–” you hold up your ring finger for display.

“happily married!” your husband finished for you, a triumphant smile on his face. he squeezed you close, throwing up a peace sign. “been madly in love since i met her!” 

“what– no way! you pulled her?!” nobara spluttered, head whipping from satoru to you, unable to wrap her mind around the revelation.

yuji’s jaw is still on the floor, “megumi, you knew about this?!”

the sea urchin looks the other direction, avoiding his friends’ judgemental gazes.

“they… raised me.. sorta..” he mumbles under his breath. your heart melts at his confession. unlike you, the other first years don't take too kindly to his comment, as they start shaking him by the shoulder and starting their own interrogation.

“and we did a good job too! don’t you think we’re ready for our own?” satoru smiles down at you jokingly, his hands snaking around your waist and his hands sneaking onto your stomach. he leaves a couple of soft pats. 

“you’re cuter when you’re quiet, y’know?” you whispered. taking advantage of your students' attention on megumi, you place a single finger on his lips, hoping your husband does not notice the way your face feels like it is on fire. 

he does.

“no need to be shy now,” satoru said, grinning wolfishly, “we’ll continue this at home.”

your face flushes even deeper.

unbeknownst to you, the first years had fallen silent, observing how gojo whispered in your ear, successfully turning you into a flustered mess. perhaps they should give more credit to their sensei.

notes. not proof read (oh no). this was just a random scenario that has been plaguing my mind during halloweekend so i typed it on my phone at a party LOL this is me desperately trying to get out of my writing slump

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓’𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐘 𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐄?

# day 15. knife play

ghostface!gojo satoru x cheerleader f!reader

genre. pwp, smut

cw. mask kink, praise, pet names, mild knife play, fingering, squirting, dirty talk, mating press, doggy | wc. 2500

kinktober m.list | interactions are appreciated

the tall man next to you slides his hand behind your back and pulls you to his side, closing the car door with his free hand. “you were great tonight,” he praises you, pressing a kiss to your temple.

he presses another when you giggle. “thank you,” you murmur with a smile fading on your lips, “but you know they only made me captain because of what happened.”

you dreamed of being a cheerleader captain from freshman year. you put in a lot of hard work and effort, but maybe you lacked what all the cheerleader captains in teen movies had. you weren’t a mean bitch.

“well, it’s not like that bitch didn’t deserve it, i mean” he looks at you smiling as he walks you to your front door, “with everything she put you through.” yes, maybe the bitch had been a little too much of a bitch, but getting killed in that horrible way, by a serial killer in a mask, had been a little too much. then, was her best friend’s turn, her boyfriend’s and finally her mother’s too.

“baby,” you grumble, stopping to look in your purse for your keys, “I wanted to deserve that position, but not like this.” he chases away your words with a wave of his hand. he lifts your chin with his finger, leaning down to leave a soft kiss on your lips.

“i fucking love you,” he whispers pulling away slowly. “if you want i can stay, you know, in case that serial killer tries to hurt my beautiful angel,” he chuckles.

you want him to stay so badly. “dad’ s at home” you murmur pressing your hands to his chest. he rolls his eyes and runs a hand through his tousled hair.

“i thought he was in some lousy bar getting drunk” he snorts with a raised eyebrow. “you know angel, he should be that killer’s next victim” he says seriously. deep down, you think the same thing too, but after all, he’s your father and he loves you, in his own way.

after another quick kiss your boyfriend lets you go. “send me some pics with the new uniform,” he smirks, “i need some entertainment for tonight,” he chuckles as he drives out of the driveway.

Keep reading

ೀ ׅ ۫ . 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐘 '𝐍 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒 ! (𝒢𝒪𝒥𝒪 𝒮𝒜𝒯𝒪𝑅𝒰)

gojo satoru x f!reader ﾉ 18+ content. ﾉ nsfw ﾉ cum fetish ﾉ cumming hands-free ( m ) ﾉ squirtingﾉ slight praise kink ﾉ slight degrading kink ﾉ air humping ( m ) ﾉ multiple orgasms ﾉ oral sex ( f receiving ) ﾉ msub + fdom ﾉ not proofread ! ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১

definitely not the longest fic 've written buttttt i wanted 2 jus' get this outta my head ! srry if this is not the best fic, 'm incredibly sleepy, though i do hope you enjoy reading despite this not bein' my best work ! art credits are here ! ♡ + ↻ are rlly appreciated ! !

Sticky arousal painted his features, the creamy substance dripping down the sides of his face. Wet lashes batted at you, his gaze fixed upon your form, pleading for you to treat him with more of your essence. "Let me taste you more.. please.." The man below you begged, his hands clasped together in front of him, his eyes sparkling with lust and admiration. His mouth hung open, his tongue lolling out, awaiting your release. You felt his warm breath fan across your cunt, sending shivers up your spine.

You took a step forward, the heels of your feet clicking against the hardwood floor. His hands grabbed your hips, pulling you towards him, the tip of his tongue pressing into your slit. "You're such a good boy.." You cooed, your hands carding through his snowy locks. You watched as he slowly lapped at your cunt, his nose rubbing against your clit. Soft whines left his lips, his warm breath hitting your sex. He looked so pretty below you, his eyes staring up at you, a pleading look in his crystal blue irises. "More.. let me taste more.." He whined, his tongue sliding up and down your slit, coating his taste buds with your slick, his eyes never once leaving yours.

Your fingers curled in his hair, pulling his head closer to you, your hips grinding against his mouth, his lips enveloping your clit. He let out a muffled moan, his nails digging into the skin of your thighs, his head moving in sync with your movements. His tongue moved expertly, his nose buried deep in the folds of your slit, his head tilted upwards, his gaze burning into yours. "So needy.." You muttered, a soft chuckle leaving your lips as you felt him twitch beneath you. A shaky gasp escaped his lips, his eyes closing, brows furrowing as his cock spasmed, a sticky stream of cum shooting out, landing on the hardwood floor beneath him. He whined loudly, his hips jerking forwards, his lips wrapping around your clit, his eyes fluttering open once more. Had he just.. came from you calling him needy? Oh, what a perfect, beautiful little slut you had in your grasp. You were going to enjoy this.

"Such a whore.." Your voice dripped with venom, his tongue moving faster, his hips jerking uncontrollably, his cock spasming again. Another stream of cum, this one longer than the last, shot out, landing on his stomach, his body quivering as his hips bucked upwards, a muffled cry leaving his lips. "Babyyyy..c-cant do this t' me.. makin' me crazy.." He slurred, his length pumping out ropes of cum, his mouth sucking on your clit, his tongue drawing small circles against your skin. You watched as he shook beneath you, his eyes rolling back as his mouth opened wide, a long, drawn out moan leaving his lips, his hips thrusting into the air. "F-fuckk.. no.." He begged, tears forming in his eyes, his legs shaking violently, his body trembling as his cock continued to twitch and spurt out his essence, the liquid landing on his abdomen. "Mh.. Can't even control it.. can't stop cumming.. can't stop.. so hard.." He whined, his eyes closing as a single tear ran down his cheek, his body shivering with ecstasy as he easily came hands free, his cock completely untouched, yet drenched in his own cum, a mess of semen sticking to his skin.

It was a sight to behold. So utterly submissive. You smirked, watching as his cock twitched for the umpteenth time, another wave of his cum painting his torso. His mouth fell open, a loud whine leaving his lips as his tongue drove itself deep into your core, the tip of his pink muscle grazing the top of your walls. "You're so perfect like this, Satoru.." You breathed, his name falling from your lips in a sweet sigh. He was too focused on you, on your pleasure, that he failed to notice his own body convulsing further, his length throbbing and leaking. "So fucking hot.. I could watch you cum forever." You mused, the words leaving your mouth in a whisper, sending a jolt of electricity up his spine. He groaned against you, his eyes squeezing shut as his tongue began to move, the muscle swirling around your core, his head bobbing in sync with the movements of his mouth. His jaw worked tirelessly, the muscles straining under the constant use, his eyes closed as he lost himself in the act of eating you out. It was euphoric, his body quivering, his cock twitching, his mind focused only on the task at hand. Your taste filled his senses, drowning his brain in the deliciousness of your nectar, the sweet honey varnishing his tongue.

The taste of you. God, he could live on your taste alone. The thought made his stomach clench, his dick pulsating with desire. It was the most delicious thing he'd ever tasted, a sweet treat that made him weak in the knees. The way your juices coated his lips, the way they slid down his throat, the way your taste lingered on his tongue, it was like a drug. He couldn't get enough of it. Your taste was intoxicating, and he was hooked. It was an addiction, one he was more than happy to succumb to. He wanted nothing more than to be wrapped in your taste, to be drowned in it. He wanted to live in your flavor.

A harsh tug on his strands caused his eyes to open, his vision blurry from his tears. His cock was throbbing, the organ pulsating against his stomach, precum pooling in his navel. He felt the familiar pressure in his core, the feeling building up in his loins. "Mh.. gonna.." He trailed off, his body shivering as his cock began to shoot out thick spurts of his seed. It was an intense orgasm, his body jerking and shuddering with each stream that left his length. He felt his stomach grow warm, his essence coating his skin, dripping down his sides. "Ahhh.." He moaned, his face a mess of tears, saliva and cum. His body trembled as he continued to climax, his length continuing to squirt his seed, the sticky substance staining his skin, the sticky liquid oozing down his torso. His body quivered as he released his load, his hips bucking up involuntarily, his hands gripping your thighs tightly. He could feel your fingers running through his hair, gently caressing his scalp. "Mmm.. 'm so close 'toru.. you're doing such a good job.. don't stop.." You whispered, your voice sweet and soothing, your fingers scratching his scalp, eliciting a soft purr from his lips. You were so sweet and patient, he could spend hours between your legs, his tongue worshipping you.

"G-god… mhm…" He whimpered, his voice shaky and high pitched, his face scrunched up in pleasure, his eyes half lidded, his mouth hanging open, a string of saliva dribbling down his chin. "Cum.. a-at.. cum, baby.. p-please.. need more of-!" He paused, feeling the result of your orgasm against his tongue. You cried out, your hands gripping his hair tightly, his name leaving your lips in a moan, his tongue eagerly lapping at your pussy. He drank down every last drop, his tongue sliding against your slit, his teeth lightly grazing your clit. "S-so.. so.. gooood.. tastes 'mazing.. fuckkk.." He groaned, his eyes fluttering closed, his mouth closing over your cunt, his lips sealing around your folds. "Moreee.. Fuck, Y/N.. G-give me more.."

the lightning thief

a/n: here's my piece for my first collab!! I've been teasing y'all with these lil Gojou headcannons for a while now, so here's a full piece dedicated to him. I really hope you like it!! *Crosses fingers for the tags to work this time*

pairing: (zeus)Gojou Satoru x fem!reader

trigger warnings and other notes: major character death, suggestive in one part, soulmate au, angsty, bittersweet ending

Part 2!

synopsis: the bride of the thunder god was never supposed to have a happy life, you decide.

Ever since you were born into that storm, a shining piece of lightning tied to your pinky, you were doomed to solidity, knowing the god of thunder wouldn’t take a mortal as his wife. But there are things even the all-powerful God can’t do; refusing his fate being one of them.

Your god was a selfish god.

That, you knew all your life. Even if you forgot for a second, people loved to whisper it to you in the dark when no one was around, pitying you.

All because you had something that didn't belong to you.

A cursed child. Born in the middle of a storm during an angry fit of the god Zeus, or more commonly, Gojo, your fate was chosen for you, but with the little piece of something you had that belonged to the angry god, you had no chances of escaping it, either.

It tied around your pinky, a string of lightning twirling down hypnotizingly, although never touching the ground. A braid that tied your soul to the god of thunder, a man you'd only seen in your dreams, knew by the myths whispered to you by the townsfolk, about the man you'd come to marry.

Just so you wait, they told you, he will come to get his bride.

You think they know it, but the truth is they can only hope.

Hope the god will touch the earth, pull you back, and free the town of this cursed kid. At least no one is cruel enough to spit it in your face how unwanted you are.

No, instead, they make you spend your days in a shrine, pray to him so he could hear your cries, and finally take you. So you do. Spend all your life in that dark, giant shrine dedicated just for the god himself- no one else visits it but you; it's to leave the god and his bride alone.

It's a lost cause.

The god of thunder has no intention to take a mere mortal as a bride, and he's furious anyone would even think that. Him, the god of gods, tied to a mortal, a human? Not once he comes to see you, avoids his shrines in fear of meeting you, not giving the tie around his fingers a second glance when they tug him towards you. He tries to fall deaf to your voice, soothing and soft- almost always a whisper, too, a habit you picked up from living around people that wants you gone.

Gojo likes to think he does all this because he doesn't have time for a mortal, no need to meet you when he knows it won't get anywhere, but deep inside his heart, Gojo is well aware if he does meet you, it would be impossible for him to leave.

Although, as selfish as he is, Gojo is also very curious.

It's a little fire in him, a fire that grows each day he hears your voice ringing in his head when you pray, and it's stronger than anyone else's, must be because of the shared connection, he thinks.

He doesn't mean to, but despite all his tries, the god of thunder can't fall deaf on your voice. He listens to what you say, your random inner thoughts that seep into the prayer that often makes him laugh.

He never answers them, though. However much he wishes to sometimes, Gojo can't bring himself to cross that line. Still, he's aware you know he's listening to them, he knows talking to him comforts you, and that's enough for the both of you.

You don't ask for anything from him though, except for him. Most would think being the soulmate of a powerful god would give you the power to do anything, ask anything, but you never do. You only tell him, again and again, that you wish him.

"Help me," you once sobbed in his shrine. "Save me from this place." It was a one-time thing you had cried to him so vulnerably, but Gojo remembers the day as if it was yesterday. "Please, god, take me back."

He knows how your people isolate you, how lonely you are, how tired and how suffocated you feel for something that never was your fault. But Gojo is -afraid- selfish, and he can't afford to fall for someone.

The worst part is, he knows if you were given the choice, if you were to live again, restart everything, you'd choose him instead of living the normal life you envy so much. He doesn't know why, but he does at the same time. It's a paradox you seem you can't get out of, a love you harbor for someone you never met. He can hear it in your voice, feel it in his bones, the comforting warmth and the ice-cold uncanniness of unconditional love.

Gojo wants nothing else but to stay away from you, but call it curiosity by nature or his soul pulling him towards you; he can't help but need to be near you, get to know you, make love to you.

So he visits you in your dreams, instead. Just so his curiosity dies, and then he'll stop thinking about you, shut out your voice that echoes in his mind all the time, stop smiling each time he sends his bolts through the sky, he tells himself. He will see you once and once only, and then he'll erase you of his mind.

But it's addicting to finally be able to see you, your bright smile that ensues his heart in a tight grip. The promise he swore to let you go after that one time turns to two, then three, then hundred.

He doesn't talk, doesn't show himself to you, but watches you as you soar through the sky and swim in the endless sea. Your dreams are colorful, unlike the grey life you live- and the all-powerful Gojo, the god who has seen everything worth seeing in the world, thinks he'd rather stay in your mind to anywhere else.

There is, however, one time he makes himself shown to you- you're having a nightmare, one that even makes the god of thunder himself feel uneasy.

It's a thoughtless act as Gojo steps out of his hiding place, somehow you don't find the white-haired, blindfolded stranger odd, but instead, he seems closer than anyone else you'd met before. Not even when he leans in does it feel strange, pressing a soft kiss on your cheek -it's the first time anyone's been so close to you, even in your dreams- and successfully wakes you up from the nightmare.

It feels so real, for the both of you, so addicting. It's like finding something you'd been looking for all your life, like you finally remember what you were thinking of for the past years.

Gojo finds it amusing how you don't talk about the little kiss the stranger gave you the next day in your prayers.

Gojo is a powerful god, more powerful than anyone else- but himself.

He falls weak to his own curiosity, and he finds it impossible not to get closer now that he blurred the line of staying away from you in your dreams.

He keeps visiting you in your dreams, still hiding- but now you know he's there. He wants to be there, with you, wants to engulf you in a kiss as you smile, pull you in his arms as you cry. It gets so hard for him to stay away from you- so he doesn't.

Your first -and last- day together is bittersweet for him.

You're dreaming of a waterfall. It's in the middle of a dense forest that impresses Gojo with how detailed, how bright everything is. The water looks like it's out the Mountain Olympus, so clear and shining under the sun seeping through the trees' branches.

You stand in the water, your back turned to where he is. Your hands trace your skin, your arms, and neck, wetting yourself and enjoying the pretty water.

It's a hypnotizing scene to see- the selfish god secretly prides himself in how he's the only one that's ever going to see you like this.

He's not even aware of himself as he stands up from his hiding place, walking towards you. It's only when his pale hand makes contact with the warm skin of your back he's awakened by his trance, although you don't seem surprised.

You don't turn around to face him, and he can't tell the reason.

"I'm a taken women, sir." You tell him, instead, to which Gojo grins. You don't shy away from the contact but lean into it, instead, as someone deprived of the touch of anyone else her whole life.

"How unfortunate," the man tells you, his voice sending chills down your spine. He's so close, his body almost touching yours as you feel the heat radiating from him, warming you in the cold water. "Is he a good man, at least?"

His smile only grows as you shiver when he talks. "I've heard stories on both saying he is and isn't."

"Stories?" He repeats as you suck in your teeth when his fingers trace your hand that's bound to another soul, and you almost get the feeling he knows. "You don't know him yourself?"

"No, sir."

"And what if I told you this was all but a dream?" He asks, and you feel his lips on your shoulder. "Would you still reject me?"

You stay silent for a few seconds- it almost makes him dizzy.

"I'm still a taken women, sir." You answer, and it makes Gojo feel both disappointed and a little proud. To hear you belong to him, is intoxicating for him, similar to an adrenaline rush that pools in his stomach.

You're his, he thinks, thoughtlessly grazing his lips on your shoulder, on your soft skin. You shiver under the touch, the touch that must be strange, but it's strangely familiar instead.

It's the same for the thunder of god, also. Gojo has lived for centuries, been with gods, goddesses, humans, and creatures, but this- what he felt as he touched you, felt your warmth, felt your shallow breaths, it was something he had never experienced before.

Addicting, he thinks. It feels impossible for him to pull himself away from you. "You-" you manage to whisper between your heaving breathes, "You are the god."

"And you, the lightning thief." He whispers, you finally see a glimpse of his unruly white hair, and it's so beautiful, you want to touch it.

Making a move to turn around, to see the god that has claimed your soul, but Gojo doesn't allow it. He holds you firm, flush to his chest, not giving you the chance to see him.

"A curious one, aren't you?" He huffs. The god knows he promised himself he would stay away from you, but he can't. Not when you feel this good under his touch, not when you sound so musical, not when your hand clings to his hand as if it's the only thing holding you up, alive.

You get to see him once that night since every other moment is full of the feeling of him, his kisses fogging your thoughts. It catches him off guard when you lift your head from his chest with wide eyes. "A blindfold?"

Gojo can feel how rapidly your heart starts to beat when you see him smile. He finds himself longing for the feeling of you laying on his chest again.

Such a pretty little thing, he thinks to himself, and just as the thought passes his mind, yours rings right after his. "What a beautiful man," you think, and he hears it. It's a prayer.

He relishes in your embrace, in the way your heart flutters, pressed to his chest, in the way your fingers trace over his arms hesitantly, expressively. For the first time in his life, the god isn't thinking about anything else but the present. For the first time, Gojo doesn't look for something else to do that will pull this boredom out of him for at least a second or so, to fill the feeling of "something's missing" stirring in his body.

No, instead, he's focused on you and only you, how you feel, how your lips felt a second ago, how your body, your hands, how you felt, how you smell, remembers it, etches the feeling, even if it's in just a mere dream.

Gojo is selfish, in fact, he might be the most selfish creature out there, but when he leaves you that night, pulling away from your tired, sleeping form, it's anything but selfish.

But it's hard.

When you wake up the next day, it's a grey, heavy day. You'd think you'd feel happy after finally getting together with the man you loved, but instead, there's an uneasy feeling stirring in your blood, making you feel sick.

Somehow you know, you know, that he will never come to visit you ever again.

A whimper leaves your lips, and it sounds like a wounded animal. Your hands roam your body to find a trace of him- wondering if he sees you now, hear your thoughts.

All your life, you had waited for him to take you, you prayed to him every day, and waited and waited and waited for your god to save you and-

You fall back in your bed, your breath hitched in your lung, burning each time you try to let it go.

"Why won't you take me, God?" You whimper half-mindedly, "I waited for you all my life, waited for you to save me from this place- from my loneliness-" you whimper, "am I that bad? So bad no one wants me, not even my soulmate?"

You stay silent for a second.

"I'll find you," you tell him. You have never been so sure of anything in your life. "I'll find you."

Gojo hears it, all of it. It's the last time he hears your voice so clearly.

~

Gojo often finds himself wondering if you stopped praying, or is your voice now just another voice from the millions he gets through his day.

Gojo thinks he would've thought the first worse, but somehow the second hurts him even more. He waits and waits, days, months, years? Those mean nothing to a god, and it might already be twenty whole years he last saw you that night. It felt like an eternity, anyway.

You hold to your word, too.

For years, you never stop chasing thunderstorms, his bolts of lightning. Spending your whole life, without a rest, you look for him. Wherever he looks, you're always there, waiting for him to come to get you.

He does, once.

But this time, it wasn't you, who had found him, but him who searched for you.

He knows this feeling, and he dreads it rushing to his temple, where he knows you are. It's fear that consumes his body, causing his chest to tighten, limbs shaking. It's a foreign feeling for a god, but not to a god bound to a mortal such as you.

The shrine is cold, not even a torch of fire illuminating the place, but he can still locate you laying on the marble ground, shaking just as your soulmate is, only a few meters away from you.

You can feel his presence, but you don't have enough strength to turn around, to face him. But you find the strength to cry, it's tears of relief, of happiness, that shakes your body with sobs.

"Shh-" he tries to console you, you've grown quite a lot, he thinks, and it felt both like an eternity and a week for him. He's once again reminded by the cruel fact that you are a mortal. "It's okay, I'm here." He tells you, consoles you, cradles you in his arms.

You're sobbing in his chest, clinging onto him like he's the only thing holding you alive, that's because he is. He knows, and you do too, that death is close.

"It's okay, it's all going to be okay." He whispers to you, and you're feeling cold, despite the warmth the god provides you in this dark shrine. "I missed you, I missed you so much."

"I told you I'd find you." You tell him, it takes a few minutes for you to choke it all out.

"You did." He smiles.

"I have one wish, god." You tell him. "Anything," he answers you, clutching you harder into his chest. "In my next life- can you come find me, too?"

~

Gojo was never afraid of getting to know you, of falling for you, loving you. No, instead, that's the best thing he'd ever done in his life, he thinks. Both of you know, a little too well, that what Gojo feared was losing you. Of saying goodbye to you. You, the human, fragile like a leaf, so easy to lose.

But he does, and it's all because of him.

Again.

So it starts again, everything from the very beginning.

You come to life again, start over in another part of the world, and you're always the same, with a stolen piece of lightning tied to your hand. You'll keep dying and dying, stuck in this curse of a life until you give up on the god, give up your love for him, stop wishing that in the next life you live, you'd come to the world, again, tied to him.

But you never do, and you never will. And however Gojo says he doesn't want this, want you, he'll always be grateful you're there.

So each time you are born, there's a thunderstorm outside, the worst people have ever seen in years. You don't know then, but you'll understand when you grow old that it's your god crying.

Of happiness, you know. Of knowing he has one more chance to hold you in his arms, to make things right.

the lightning thief ii.

a/n: okay so I was not going to write a second part but I liked it a lot so here we go. This can be read as a standalone btw, you don't really have to read the first part to understand, but like,,, still lmao

warnings: mentions of blood, mentions of wounds, mentions of death, cursing, tw: major character death, tw: blood if anything else, please tell me

honorable mentions: first half pure angst, the rest is slow-burn, enemies to lovers with Gojo. 6.4k? Yeah, meant it when I said slowburn. oh- soulmate au!! I really hope y'all like this as much as you did the first part oof

Gojo sometimes wonders if your souls are tied to each other because you're in love or if you're in love because of the shared tie.

"I'm sorry, Gojo." Your voice is scratchy, and Gojo can tell it hurts even to speak. "I'm so sorry."

You don't want to see your lover crying hovering over you; it's your fault his tears stream down his cheeks, but it's impossible to take your eyes off of him. Gojo shakes his head side to side, lips quivering as his grip on you tightens, too afraid to let you go.

Your face is getting paler by the second; your hand reaches to his face to wipe his tear, but you fall weak. So instead, your god takes your trembling, ice-cold hand in his, guiding it to his face, nuzzling his face into your touch.

He can't- it's too much. He had to witness this, your limping body in his arms, counting minutes till you leave him, thousands, millions of times, but each time hurts just as much. And knowing this is- this is the last time... he thinks he's going mad.

"Please," his voice is a hush, blending in with the wind. "Please don't go. I can't go on without you." Gojo sobs, pulling you closer to him, flush to his chest as he feels your face nuzzle his neck. "I need you- I don't care how long it takes, I just want to see you again."

"I'm sorry," you sob into his chest, drinking his smell one last time.

One last time.

It's your fault he's sobbing like this. It's your fault this is the last time you're ever going to be together. It's your fault his bright, pearl-white hair is soiled with a dark burgundy of blood.

"I thought- I just wanted to help."

Your words only seem to make him cry harder; his voice raises to shouts, pushing you closer to himself as if guarding you against death. "I know, baby, I know." He manages to say. "I'm not- I'm not mad at you."

He should be. You're the one who broke the bond, after all. It's your fault the piece of lightning that used to tie you together broke in two.

"I love you so much; you know that, right?" He ushers you. "I'll always love you, so just please-" He shakes his head side to side as he notices you can't keep your eyes open anymore. "don't leave me."

Not much to say; all he can do now is to beg.

If anyone- anything else saw him this very second, on the ground, holding the body of a mortal girl, dirt all over him, begging shamelessly, no one would believe he's a god, let alone the strongest. But at that moment, he doesn't care.

You have it easy, you think. You're never the one to witness your lover's death, grieve after he's gone. As you watch him sob like a leaf in between a storm, holding your numbing body, it feels selfish.

People seem to think he's the selfish one, and they're right in any other thing he does, but never in love.

"I don't want to leave." You finally tell him, despite knowing it'll only hurt him more, it'll wound him deeper, you're still unable to hold it in as you clutch him as if he's the one thing still holding you alive.

"It's okay." He hushes you, caressing your hair, grazing your cold skin. "Just sleep now, okay? You're not going anywhere, I won't let you."

You smile. Gojo wishes for you to ask him for the promise, the promise to find you in the next life as well, "wait for me, Gojo." You'd tell him, "Find me again, meet me in my next life." He would always respond with a teary smile. "Always, my love."

But instead, you stay quiet this once.

Gojo's mouth goes dry.

You feel heavy in his hold, your eyes fluttering close, hand sliding and falling on the ground.

No.

No, no, no!

His eyes wide with shock, with horror, with panic, Gojo tries to get you to wake up- because that can't be it, right? That can't be it- you didn't-

He calls out your name, begging you to open your eyes- even for a few seconds, he didn't even get to say a proper goodbye. He never does, though, since how does one say goodbye to the love of their life?

"Please love-" the god looks so pathetic, so miserable as his head rests on yours, begging you to open your eyes, don't leave him- he's scared.

Why didn't you ask him- ask him to find you again? How can you leave him with those words, breaking his heart more than any other time? It feels wrong; something feels horribly wrong as your body gets colder and colder in his arms.

He stays there with you in his arms, for how long, he doesn't know.

As Gojo stands up, letting your limp body go, two things slip from his hold. One is his lover, and the other is the string of lightning that ties your souls together.

~

Gojo sometimes wonders if your souls are tied to each other because you're in love or if you're in love because of the shared tie.

He doesn't want to find out.

It's the kind of doubt that makes its way into his thoughts only when he has you in his arms like this, your head nuzzling into your lovers' neck, your heartbeats a steady rhythm against his chest.

A rhythm he has come to memorize, searching for it in the eternity you leave behind.

You've always liked staying with him like this; it's one of the minor things that never seems to change about you in every new life you spend together.

Even just the thought of the next life you'll spend together is agonizing for him. It weighs heavy on him, to count the days he'll lose you, to even think about how you felt all those times, limp between his arms, each time body colder than the last.

Please don't leave me. Don't leave me alone.

His grip on your body tightens as his chest does; it's a hold of fear, of longing.

"What's wrong?" You lift your head to meet his blindfolded gaze; his bottom lip captured between his teeth. No matter how much you look at him, it's impossible not to feel awe at Gojo. He's a god, the embodiment of thunder, of power, created to perfection- his only imperfection being a soul tie he shares with a mortal.

Your voice seems to snap him back out of his thoughts, or maybe it's the way your heart pace picking up that startles the man. That alone makes you hurt even more- that he's grown sensitive to your heartbeat after witnessing it die under his touch countless of times.

He doesn't know you know any of this, of course. Gojo doesn't talk about your shared past; he doesn't mention how he had to see you die many times, doesn't let you sense the pain, the fear he goes through.

"Nothing's wrong, love." He caresses your cheek with the back of his knuckle, a playful smile turning his frown upside down. "I was just thinking about stuff."

"What stuff?"

He misses a beat before answering, but he's good at masking it with a chuckle. "God stuff," he sighs exaggeratedly, "tough being the strongest god, you know."

You smile back at him, not pondering on it, but you can't shake off the feeling that he has something bothering him, weighing on the god of thunder.

It reminds you of the night a serpent had visited you, the talk, the truth it gave you. The pain it gifted you.

"This- this isn't the first time we met?" You ask the man who first came as a serpent. He's big, as big as the other gods; he must be one, as well.

Skin littered with tattoos, marks, and scars, scarlet eyes bore into yours that's the exact opposite of your god, but nonetheless, as unearthly beautiful.

"Of course it isn't! He never told you?" The man laughs. Sukuna, he calls himself. "B-but how? Why?" You blurt out, confused, not aware how tight of a fist you've made your hands.

Sukuna quirks a brow at you, openly mocking your naivety. "How else did you think a soultie between a god and a mortal would go?"

"I-" You start to speak, you don't want to talk to him anymore- you have a sick feeling bubbling inside your chest, but he cuts you off. "You're a mortal!" He laughs. "He's a god- immortal. Your lifespan compared to his is like a grain of salt in a beach."

"He never- he never told me we met before." You speak, a mere whisper that's more likely spoken for yourself rather than the god watching you.

"I can see why he does that. Gojo wants to protect his little mortal- he can get a little obsessive at times, too, but that must be a given after watching your lover die."

~

"Gojo?" You call his name one sleepless night, even the sound of rain on your window not enough to lull you into sleep. You don't have to open your eyes to know he's there; he always is when you need him anyway.

The only light source is the lightning twirling in the room; it illuminates his face when Gojo raises his hand to push his hair out of his face. "Can't sleep?"

"No."

"We can talk, if you want." He offers, and you bite your lip before taking the offer. He knows it makes you feel safe when you hear his voice; Gojo always tells you stories and memories he has as a god. "Tell me about Cronus." You usher for him to narrate the same story you've heard many times; it's one you like a lot.

But this time, you have one more reason to ask; to know more about his brother, Sukuna.

Gojo chuckles at the way your eyes focus on his hand dangling from his side, your eyes following the movement of the lightning that ties him to you.

As a cute little smile settles on your futures, one almost looks loving, and Gojo once again finds himself wondering if you'd fall in love with him if your soul hadn't forced you to.

"You seem awfully interested in my stories today," he laughs. "You usually fall asleep as soon as I start talking. I don't even know if I should be offended or not."

"You have a nice voice." You tell him with a smile. "It sounds... familiar."

You don't notice it, but your words seem to alarm the god just a little. He quickly masks it with a smile, leaning forward that your noses almost touch. "Why are you awake today, then? Is something bothering my lightning thief?"

You chuckle at the playful name, but the tension in the air seems to rise as the moment passes. "No, I'm just a little curious. How old are you, Gojo?"

His brows go up at your question, eyes narrowing just a little. "Why do you ask?"

"No reason." You assure him, but it's obvious he doesn't believe it. Still, he answers. "Very old," Gojo smiles. "Maybe as old as time itself."

You nod, turning your eyes to the tie swinging from your pinky. After a few minutes of silence, you're speaking once again. "How long have we had this tie, then?"

~

"Gojo wants to protect his little mortal- he can get a little obsessive at times, too, but that must be a given after watching your lover die." Sukuna smiles; it's sickeningly big, looking at you with expecting, wide eyes. The god gets what he wants.

Your eyes widen in terror, in realization, hand coming up to cover your lips. "He watched me die?" Your words come out as a wretched gasp, it's everything the god wanted, but Sukuna is yet to blow the final blow.

"Of course he did!" He shouts; it's obvious he's having his fun, eyes glinting with the newfound happiness of playing with a mortal. Even better that all he's saying is the truth, too. "Countless of times, even we lost count after millions."

"No- that's not- that can't be true." You squirm- it all makes sense, why he gets so anxious as much as a cut breaks your skin, his over-the-top behavior to get you back healthy when you have a cough. "He has to wait years before you appear back on earth, before he finds you again- just to watch you die."

It hurts, it burns; you never knew words could be so unbearably painful."Why are you telling me this?" You sob, the thought of your lover not leaving your thoughts; he had to endure this all himself, he watched this cruel cycle all his life, he lost you- Gojo lost you and had to move on countless times.

"To help him, of course." The god answers you. "I want to break- free my brother from this curse. Don't you want to, as well?"

free him.

from your love, he means.

"You hurt him." Sukuna adds with a wicked grin. "Each time you die, you hurt him even more. Don't you want to stop it?"

"Yes," you whisper, sobbing as you nod. "Yes- I don't want to see Gojo hurt- please help me, please, please, help me!"

"Of course, I will." The serpent god is generous, after all.

~

Sometimes you wish you never knew.

It's selfish, you know.

But when Sukuna told you how to break the cycle- your first thought was that you wished you never knew. It plagues you, your heart, your mind, your soul- the brutal truth, the simple thing you have to do to save the one person you truly care about.

"I can't do it," you'd told the serpent. "I can't."

He'd laughed at that, as if he had always expected this was your answer, one bordering a shout that told you to run, get out, something is very wrong. "Are you that selfish, mortal girl? You can't do this one little thing- you'd rather let him spend the rest of his life like this?"

He's right, you know. You can't let your lover suffer anymore just because you're afraid.

So you take the knife the serpent has to offer.

~

It's simple. Maybe a little too simple.

All you need to do is die for your love instead of dying despite it.

"This has been an ongoing cycle because your soul refuses to cut your ties with his, fights death for it." Sukuna had tells you as he ushers the blade in your hands. "This time, you're going to cut it yourself."

The metal knife feels cold under your fingers, your lips tremble when you even think of leaving Gojo. For eternity. You don't want to, don't want to lose him, your life, your tie- but it's for him.

As soon as you grip the knife, the serpent leaves for the night, leaving you with the horrible feeling of what's to come.

You drop the knife as if it burns you, metal hitting the stone floor with a loud clang. As if it pulls your energy with it, you fall on the floor, as well, forming a ball as you bury your face in your knees, sobbing mindlessly.

I don't want to die.

"Don't be a crybaby." You tell yourself. "You can- will do it- for Gojo." Your trembling hand reaches for the knife once again, the silver reflecting the moonlight. "For him, for him, for him."

He's the only thought you have as the knife breaks your skin, as you cry out in pain, as warm blood starts coloring your dress dark.

"For him for him for him," you keep repeating. You don't catch the dark chuckle coming from the night, but you do hear Gojo calling your name. The thread of lightning sweeps on the floor, soiled by fresh blood and dirt- it's broken, he realizes in horror.

"What did you do?" Gojo cries as he takes you in between his arms. "What did you do- Y/N, what did you do?"

As you notice how genuinely terrified his beautiful blue eyes look- it's only then you understand just what you caused.

You broke the bond- and it's your fault you'll never meet again.

~

"Can you stop eating, and act like a fucking adult for at least a minute?" You force from behind your teeth. "You're going to blow our cover!"

The man in question doesn't even spare you a glance, rolling his eyes from behind his black eye-band, thinking you can't tell when he does. Or maybe he does know you can see it when he rolls his eyes at you but doesn't care. When he (half)finishes chewing his chips, Gojo mocks you by repeating your words back to you in an exaggerated voice and a snarky smile.

He's more than aware of how your hands twitch beside you to punch him as hard as you can, how you grit your teeth together and narrow your eyes at him. Oh, he annoys you so beautifully.

Your hands itch to squeeze the life out of the blindfolded man as he laughs at your expression and keeps on eating- you can picture your fist hitting his annoyingly perfect white teeth, pushing them in and making him unable to chew anything for a while- ah, good dreams.

Gojo Satoru, the most annoying and unbearable man you were unlucky enough to encounter, and even worse, have him as your partner. Temporary partner, at least, but that single word wasn't enough to soothe your anger after living the worst three weeks of your life.

He's doing it on purpose, of course.

Gojo has always been the type to have fun getting a kick out of people, but with you, both he and you know he's overplaying it.

If he's honest, even Gojo himself doesn't know why he's so hellbent on making your life miserable- it isn't something you did or said, but a guttural feeling that makes the god so uneasy, he has to make you feel that way, as well.

"I don't know why you're so fixated on this stupid plan of yours." He speaks between his chewing, making you wince. "It must be because you're weak."

Oh, to kick him in the balls.

"No, it's cause I'm not an idiot like you who goes into fights without a second thought."

"Just say you're boring and go." He huffs, pulling out his phone and scrolling down, making you huff out in annoyance. In truth, Gojo knows it's the opposite. You're not boring, on the contrary, he finds you a little too amusing.

You have the kind of charm that brings a smile to everyone's face, a spicy personality that makes you argue with people for fun, your kindness that has even Nanami a little softer. You're awfully attractive, have a smudge of dark humor and a loving smile-

You're everything and anything a guy could ever want, and Gojo thinks that's the most annoying thing ever.

He doesn't know what that feeling is that prickles his skin when you accidentally brush against him, that sickness bubbling in his chest when you first met him, smiling brightly.

"I'm not boring, I'm just cautious." You huff at the handsome man that gives you a mocking look. "That's what a boring person would say. I don't need to be cautious, you know, I can beat anyone with ease, they should be cautious of me."

"Of your massive fucking ego, more like." You mumble. "What, are you gonna call yourself a god, too?"

"I might as well be one." He leans forward to you, you can almost smell the chips he'd been eating. He's so close- so pretty up close, that you seem unable to get any words out of your mouth, left speechless, even when he has his eye-band on.

"Wh- what is this?" You stutter, trying to hide how flustered you feel by lashing out. "An extreme case of god complex?"

"No," he laughs, finally pulling back to give you room to breathe. "Just telling the truth."

"Yeah, whatever." You turn your eyes away from the handsome man, pure-white hair reflecting the red and green light coming from the street, his smile making you shiver. "Let's just get this over with."

~

You fought well.

Gojo has to admit you did, even though you're a little roughed up, you took high-grade curses by yourself without being much of an obstacle for him, and that isn't something Gojo gets to feel during a fight with a partner.

His gaze falls on you, sitting next to him on the bench as you wait for your ride to take you back to jujutsu high. You have your arms wrapped around you, not much to shield you from the chilly breeze of the night. Cuts and bruises litter your arms, even though nothing to worry about, the sight still has Gojo feeling somewhat uneasy.

You're unaware of Gojo's gaze, fighting the exhaustion that pulls you to a deep slumber. Your head lolls dangerously close to Gojo; he finds himself holding his breath as he can feel yours fanning against his neck. You look so vulnerable, cute, even, without that disgusted frown you have whenever you talk with him.

Minutes feel like hours as Gojo can only try and busy himself with his phone, leg bouncing as he waits for the shuttle to come already. As he decides the best option is to wake you up, he feels a weight falling on his shoulder.

He freezes.

Finally having somewhere you can rest your head on, Gojo feels you shuffle even closer to him in your half-asleep state, your face almost touching his neck, your steady breaths making him shiver. You... you fit so nicely against his chest, as if you were made to be there, it feels so right, makes him feel so ease, he can just rest his head atop yours and fall asleep as well, a slumber he hasn't head in thousands of years, maybe.

He suddenly sprints on his feet.

The sudden movement jerks you awake, confused eyes finding the frantic-looking man standing before you. "Is the ride-"

"Don't!" He almost shouts at you; it's the first time you've seen him so serious- so worried. "Don't touch me."

Touch him?

It takes you a few seconds to understand what he means, feeling hurt coiling in you when you do. "O-oh," you can only whisper, "I'm sorry- I didn't mean to, I just fell asleep."

He still doesn't look convinced; you notice his hands are trembling.

Oh.

You don't say anything, couldn't even if you tried to, afraid the tears welling in your eyes will spill if you do. You knew Gojo hated you, he made it as clear as he could, but you never thought- he hated you this much.

Too proud to apologize, he stands there awkwardly, can't bring himself to sit back down as you wait in silence for the rest of the night.

"Oh, thank god." He hears you mutter as a black car turns around the corner and comes near you. You jump on your legs, rushing to the door so you can get in as soon as possible when you hear him call your name.

"I-" Gojo tries to speak, hand resting on the back of his neck, face tinted pink due to cold, or maybe it's something else, but you shake your head no. "There's nothing to explain."

When he opens the door after you, you have your head resting against the window, eyes once again falling weak to exhaustion, but as soon as he gets in, you jerk yourself awake, sitting upright without giving him a second glance.

~

"Is everything okay between you and Gojo-sensei?" Itadori asks a while after that night you went with Gojo. "You've been acting weird ever since you went to kick some curse ass."

You snort. If even Itadori caught up, you really must be obvious, you think. "Nothing out of the ordinary," you shrug, taking a sip from your coffee to give yourself some time. Even thinking about the incident has you cringing internally. "You know, the usual. We never liked each other."

"Oh?" He blinks. "I thought you were good friends?"

"Good friends?!" You almost spit out your coffee. "How did you get that idea?"

The pink-haired boy shrugs. "I don't know, it just feels like it. Gojo-sensei works best with you and you with him, you tease each other a lot, too. You seem in sync."

Sync. It's the last word you'd think of to explain your relationship with the man in question.

But Itadori is right. Something did change between you two. Gojo doesn't tease you anymore; on the contrary, he keeps his distance from you as much as he can, not talking to you if he doesn't need to-, and truthfully, that makes your wound ache just a little more.

You're not one to say you enjoyed him teasing you, but this feels a lot more awkward, and watching him be so at ease, have fun and laugh with anyone else has you feeling a little- ahh, you don't even know at this point.

"Huh? I have to go." Itadori jumps on his feet. "Thank you for the coffee, sensei!" He doesn't forget to shout, smiling as he sprints down the corridor. You hear him voice out a small oh on his way down, but you think he probably stumbled over his untied laces.

A sigh leaves your lips as you rub your temples, turning back to your computer to finish your paperwork.

"In sync, he says." A voice speaks behind you, making you jump in your seat.

"Shit!" You curse as you turn to the door, your eyes falling on the last person you'd want to see, leaning on the door frame with a pink bag hanging from his fingers. "Oh, did I scare you?" He grins, and you can't not roll your eyes.

"No, that's a new way of greeting people, haven't you heard?" Your answer makes him huff out a laugh as he casually walks in and plops himself on the seat Itadori just left.

"As humorous as always, I see."

"As annoying as always for you, as well. What are you doing here?"

"Am I not welcome?" He quirks a brow; he's wearing one of his sunglasses today, the crystal-blue of his eyes peek from where the black-glass can't cover, leaving you in a vulnerable state you don't want to be in.

"Not even a bit."

Gojo grins.

"I come with a peace offering, though." He tells you as he hands you the pink bag he was holding. You take it from the man suspiciously; it's warm, smelling like a bakery would fresh in the morning. "Doughnuts."

When you stand there, not sure how to proceed as you hold the bag in your hands, Gojo raises a brow mockingly. "Did my generosity leave you frozen?"

"I feel like I shouldn't eat without seeing you eat one first." You ignore his remark, peeking in the bag with a suspicious frown.

"Oh come on!" Gojo lets out a laugh. "Am I really that unreliable?" He laughs even more when you don't miss a beat before answering. "You are."

"Okay, okay." He shakes his head from side to side. "I was going to eat some, anyway."

He reaches in the bag, picking one from the many, bringing it to his mouth when you-

"Wait!"

Gojo's hand freezes when you shout, eyes wide in fear. "What?" His brows furrow, inspecting the doughnut. "Is there something-" he's still speaking as you make a reach for it, taking the white powdered doughnut from his hands in a swift motion. "I'll eat this one." You grin.

There are a few minutes of silence as Gojo tries to process what happened, his eyes narrowing behind his glasses as he smiles. "Oh, you little-"

"Huh? Can't hear you from how delicious this is."

He stays quiet, and he's grateful you don't notice the smile, a genuine, almost loving smile he has as he watches you gulp down the dessert. Gojo's quick to wipe it off his face, but the feeling isn't that easily suppressed. You raise your gaze back to the white-haired man as you take a sip of your coffee to finish it off. You have to admit the man has taste when it comes to desserts.

"I'll take that my peace offering is accepted?"

"I'll think about it." You shrug, mood fouling as soon as you remember why he's here. "Why come with one, anyway? You never wanted to be friends with me, what's with the sudden change of heart?"

He ponders over your question for a while, eyes darting around the room and finding you again. "Felt like it." He simply states, not expecting you to snort.

"That might be the worst possible answer you could've given."

You feel your heart missing a beat when Gojo grins, giving you a look over his glasses, meeting you with the most beautiful blue gaze. "It is, isn't it? But it is the truth."

~

"For fucks sake- that hurts!" Gojo whines for the thousandth time that night, and you ignore it just as many times.

"Y/N!" He groans, and you finally let go of Gojo's hair strands, sticky, green, and gross with some suspicious liquid a curse threw at him.

He had begged you to help him wash it off- by help, he meant whining like a baby each time you even put pressure on his oh-so-precious hair.

"Oh, shut it already, you big baby." You murmur, your voice not doing the best job at hiding your smile, so you turn your back at the man watching you take some more cream in your hands.

"Where did that god complex go, anyway? You were the one bragging about being a god, weren't you?"

"And?" Gojo huffs, true-blue eyes staring at you from the mirror with a childlike pout. "can't gods feel pain?"

You let out a laugh, turning your focus back on his head and pushing it downwards so you can reach the crown. Even while sitting, you're almost the same height, you realize. Tall motherfucker.

"I don't know, you tell me. I'm not as much of an asshole to claim to be a god." Your answer seems to amuse him, but his chuckle cuts off with yet another whine.

"Ow!" He frowns when you slide your fingers on a section of strands, pulling the green substance off of them. "Can't you be at least a little more gentle?"

"No, but I can just stop and leave you to it." You roll your eyes. "This isn't fun for me either."

"I bet it isn't." Gojo mocks you with a look sent your way through the mirror. "How can spending time with me not be fun?"

"Are you aware how bad you smell, Satoru?" You mutter mindlessly, not realizing how easy his first name rolls off your tongue. You're too focused on working a stubborn gulp of green off of his hair as Gojo stills under your touch at the sound of his name, eyes widening and heart missing a beat.

"What?" You ask crossly as he gulps loudly, brows furrowing. "Are you still whining?"

"Okay, okay, I'll shut up." He mutters, watching you smile at yourself proudly at making the Gojo Satoru retreat. He deems it's endearing. He thinks you have the prettiest smile. The funniest reactions. The most beautiful smell. A kind touch.

Even as you pull on his hair so that he might end up bald at the end of it, Gojo relishes in your touch, loves it, craves it, misses it. Fuck- he hates it.

Gojo isn't an idiot; he's lived far too long not to know what's happening, what he's feeling. And somehow, that makes it worse.

"Wow, never seen the Gojo Satoru stay quiet for more than five minutes." You tease the man, pulling on his hair rather harshly to make him jump in his seat. You can't help the giggle that makes its way out of your lips when he sends you a cross look.

"Trying to cope with pain, thank you very much." He mutters, but there's a smile on his lips, as well.

You're a little surprised as he keeps his quiet for the rest of the operation, leaving you two to a peaceful silence as you work your way on his hair, the scary kind of intimacy only shared between-

"And- I think it's done!" You exclaim in victory as you let go of Gojo's hair-conditioner-soaked head. "Go wash the excess or something, and the rest is up to you."

Gojo is leaning over the sink as you talk, inspecting himself on your mirror. "Oh," you say before leaving him to his narcissistic bullshit. "Never call me for something like this again."

"What?" He gasps in fake hurt. "You'd rather me ask Nanami?"

"No, I'd rather you shave your head." You smile as you close the door from behind you. "Oh, Y/N, don't forget!" Gojo shouts after you. "Don't forget our date!"

Your date.

You hated how -despite knowing it was Gojo being a teasing asshole- hearing that alone made your heart skip a beat. It wasn't anything that even resembled a date, just meeting the new first-year student, but Gojo liked to tease.

When you leave him alone, Gojo groans after you.

Loudly, too.

He finds himself rubbing his pinky; it's a nervous habit that calms him off, that reminds him of the old love the God used to have.

Used to, he reminds himself.

It took him hundreds, thousands of years to bury this feeling that was now resurfacing- no, this was different.

His soul was tied to another back then; he had his other half, his one and only love. What he felt for you was nothing but a mere attraction, if he could even call it that. There was no way Gojo would fall for yet another mortal.

...

right?

right.

~

"Gojo," you whisper, voice strained. "Gojo, I can't go on."

Your hushed whisper hits the cave walls, blending with the sound of water dripping. When you try to take another step, the pain from your most definitely broken ankle jolts up your body, making you cry out. "I'm sorry- I can't go on, let alone fight." You tell the man again, who is also hurt, trying to get you to walk with him- cmon, just a little more.

For the first time you've seen him, Gojo looks desperate. His eyes are wide frantically, darting around the dirty walls for an escape route, but he knows- Gojo knows he can't escape.

He could've if he was alone, or maybe if he just had you-

But not with the new student in there.

He groans, the blood he's losing making it harder to feel warm. Oddly enough, his hand that holds you feels warmer than any other part of his body.

But here you were, both hurt, not vitally but enough cause one.

"Fuck- just hold on a little more, Y/N." Gojo holds you steady when you stumble over your own legs. "I promise I'll get us out of here."

"No, I-" You try to reason, but it's apparent the man falls deaf to your cries, stuck in his head to find something. Some way out.

This wasn't how it was supposed to go. This day was only about meeting the new student and teasing you the whole day, and you weren't supposed to be in this cave; you weren't supposed to fight curses- the student wasn't supposed to be captured by them, either.

"Gojo there is no other way!" You cry out, hoping he doesn't catch on the slight tremble in your voice. "You have to save the kid, and I can't go on." When he shakes his head denyingly, unconsciously nuzzling his face to the touch you have on his face, you smile bitterly. "I can take care of myself, you have to go."

"Gojo!" You call out once again, your hand sliding up his shoulder. "Gojo fucking- listen to me!" It's only when your hand cups his cheek you pull him out of his panicked haze, the bluest gaze finding you. "You have to-"

"No."

"Leave me here." You finish your sentence, sending him a cross glare. "No," he repeats, the grip he has on your arm tightening, warning you not to press it, he won't listen, but you're as stubborn as him, aren't you?

You take a shaky breath when the handsome man finally shakes his head, mirroring the bitter smile you have on your lips. It's such an intimate moment, one you've never experience with anyone, and certainly not with him, but somehow, it feels almost nostalgic. A feeling of sadness lingers on both your chests as Gojo finally nods at you, your hand falling off his face.

"I'll come back for you." He mutters as he starts walking, speaking without thinking, "you hear me? I won't leave you here."

It hurts- for some reason, the words he speaks are painful, more than your wounds, more than the hopeless situation you're in. "Of course, you will." You want to answer. "You always do." Words tingling on the tip of your tongue, you choose to bite them, instead.

What is this feeling? This feeling that has your body shaking, making you tremble with sobs? You don't know. It feels like a terrible longing to the man that had just left you, like you've been waiting for him thousands of years, a burn of grief in your body that makes you want to cry out in pain. It's like you're losing something- like- like--

"Come find me, Gojo." Your voice bounces off the walls, now too far away from the God.

come find me.

Come find me.

He keeps hearing the sentence in his head, feels so strangely familiar to-

you.

He stills in his place, the god of thunder, when his body remembers before his heart does, remembering your touch from thousands, millions of years ago, identical to the way you had just held him. With a cry of relief, of fear settling in the back of his throat, Gojo turns back around- running to you, to find you, one last time.

You're back, it took him too long to understand, but you're back, you held your promise, his lightning thief, no matter how far he runs, you'll always find him.

Even without a tie that binds your souls.

Gojo finally has an answer to his question.

Are your souls tied to each other because you're in love, or are you in love because of the shared tie?

Love your posts about gojo being unfaithful discourse. Though at this point i think gege might have meant gojo just can't commit. He comes off as someone blunt so he'll probably break it off instead of cheat🤔. He also struck me as the type of guy that probably can't manage intimate relationships well. If we factor in how the clan families and how shaman society works it's actually surprising he didn't come off worse. Totally agree that if gojo finds the one. Someone that can relate to him in a lot of ways and can keep up. He's gonna fall hard. I imagine him either totally upping his flirt game for them or if we go for more cynical. He'll want to distant himself from them because of his trauma and lifestyle 🤔

Wow thank you for this ANSJAJS

First things first, I hadn't thought about the clans and the shaman society until now, thats genius and it actually helps me understand him a little better.

If you look at oppressing families, the children are often the type to rebel and/or do the exact opposites of what's expected of them. If you take this into regard, it's understandable why he fears commitments so. But, his lifestyle, his personality, his power and past traumas and everything are all creating a fear of being tied down, fear of losing freedom, fear of being limited.

If you just take his power in hands, limitless. Everything about Gojou is excessive, powerful, unruly. He likes being spontane, he likes working alone, he likes being able to do things because he wants to and not because it's asked for him to.

Even just his powers are telling us the kind of person he is, the kind of person that would fail in a relationship, according to the society.

Oh, if you take this into hands too, Gojou might have a fear of failure.

Think about it, he's thought to be a God, so powerful, he's a miracle, he's the beholder of the strongest bloodlines in one body. He's expected to be unbeatable, best at everything.

If you take this into regard, and if you consider the fact his personality is by society deemed the worst possible personality to be in a relationship with (even we, as his fans keep joking about how a relationship with him would suck) I think Gojo denies to enter a fully-committed relationship because he's afraid of failure.

He knows hes handsome, charismatic, anyhting a person would want from a man- but his personality is the deal breaker from relationships, and because he thinks knows even if he tries, Gojo can't have a long, healthy relationship, he does anyhting possible not to, just to never see himself failing.

Jujutsu Kaisen~ MASTERLIST

GOJOU SATORU

the lightning thief

synopsis: the bride of the thunder god was never supposed to have a happy life, you decide.

Ever since you were born into that storm, a shining piece of lightning tied to your pinky, you were doomed to solidity, knowing the god of thunder wouldn’t take a mortal as his wife. But there are things even the all-powerful God can’t do; refusing his fate being one of them.

trigger warnings and other notes: major character death, suggestive in one part, soulmate au, angsty, bittersweet ending

the lightning thief i.i.

synopsis: Gojo sometimes wonders if your souls are tied to each other because you're in love or if you're in love because of the shared tie.

Part 2 for lightning thief!

hug me like you mean it

synopsis: despite all his efforts, gojo satoru loves you.

genre: angst, fluff

》

Commitment

your thoughts!

1

2

3

When have you last hugged someone?

No, not those hugs you give when you meet up with a friend or bid goodbye.

When have you last hugged someone? Wrapped your arms around them as tightly as you could, smiled or cried at their familiar scent, buried your face into their neck, pulling them to yourself as close as you could, so much that you wished you were one with them, so much that you never, ever wanted to let go.

For Gojo, the answer was never.

"C'mon, Satoru, let me go already!" Your laughing voice sounds muffled beneath his suffocating body. "You're such a baby."

Until he met you.

He tries to laugh with you, but he's too relieved, too focused on holding his tears back to let you go.

He had a nightmare, you see.

One you kissed him a teary goodbye, one your hands felt cold, one where he hugged you just like this but you felt cold and limp.

For the first time in his life, Gojo had a nightmare that woke him up with tears running down his cheeks.

His heart races as he thinks back on the cursed dream, his hand pull you even closer.

As someone who never let anyone get close to him- physically or emotionally, as someone who never let anyone touch him or his heart, it sure is terrifying to be on the verge of tears just because he saw you dying in his dream.

Gojo is no coward.

But he sometimes wishes he never met you.

Because he can't leave you. He can't leave you like he has been doing all his life. Whenever someone got too close, whenever he cared too much about anyone, leaving was the better choice for both parties.

But this time, even when he tried to, Gojo can't leave you.

Gojo is no coward.

But he sometimes wishes he never met you.

Because then, he wouldn't have to wake up crying in fear to the thought of you leaving him.

a/n: a lil drabble because it's free therapy to write when I'm sad. Anyways. When have you last hugged someone?

Do you think gojo is the type to self sabotage his relationships. I get the feeling from him because of geto and the whole "love is the most twisted curse" quote. He really gives the vibe of someone who's cynical about "love"🤔

Give me a minute, I think I'll cry.

No but jokes aside, that quote just resonates with me a lot, and I know what he means and feels as he says that.

I've seen many people fall in love. It's true, it's beautiful, but oh so ugly.

I never understood why anyone would want to fall in love. Loving someone so much that you put them before you, care for them more than you do for yourself? No, thanks.

Imagine how Gojo would feel in that situation, though. He's a selfish person, I think we all know that very well, and imagine how weird and terrifying it should be to see all these people who he thought were like himself (incapable of love, he explains) lose themselves for this one special person.

To stay alive, Gojo has to stay alone. To succeed, he has to be alone.

But to stay sane? He's not so sure.

So he goes on dates anyway, seeks the validation, secretly hopes to feel that thing everyone tells him he will- "you'll know when you meet them."

Of course, Gojo has people he likes, people he thinks as attractive, cute, amazing- but here's the catch. If he can push them away from himself, if he still can self sabotage with these people he likes, how is that love?

It's a paradox. He pushes people away before he can fall in love, but if he can push them away, he's not I love.

He's glad he doesn't fall in love. He's seen so many people do, so many people feel that highest form of happiness now that they finally feel whole- and he's seen so many people die because of it.

He's not willing to take the chance.

Gojo hates the idea of love. It's irrational, almost like a contract of death; but that's not why he hates it, it's because he can't feel it.

Cynical, he is. It's just to cover up the fact that he longs for it, though.

p.s: I do not mean to say that Gojo is incapable of love. He just doesn't let himself fall in love- and it's ironic because everyone tells him he can't help it. You can't help but fall in love.

Well, surprise. Gojo can. The moment he feels that tingle in his chest, he can just push them away. See? Helped it.

Still, he sometimes wonders if that does mean he is incapable of love as everyone tells him, or if he's just too good at controlling his emotions.

Whatever it is, he just doesn't think being alone feels as good as it used to.

Hellooo ! Just wanted to say i really looove ur Gojo analysis regarding on what Gege said about him and i agree with u on a certain degree. So in a big what if scenario where Gojo would actually have a person he feels at least comfortable being around and this person actually understands him and his struggles and is willing to support him, sees past his behavior or guard as i can call it, i can actually see him develop feelings but I can't see him go beyond that, he wouldn't confess, he would definitely be terrified and push them away or at least try to but a part of him will still yearn for that comfort and love he knows he'll never have but because of how the world really is and also his trauma. I think he would rather push away the person he loves to safety knowing that at least they are alive and safe rather than experiencing another painful heart break all over again. I agree with u saying if Gojo were to love, he would love only once but truly. But I'm gonna say that it also depends on what kind of person this is, in this case, definitely someone independent as him but knowing they can always go to each other. Someone who can help him develop and grow from his insecurities, to also tell him that maybe one day everything will be okay. (Maaaan i could go for a much longer thoughts i have but I'll leave it like this for now, maybe) let me know what u think :)

Holy shit I just saw this and I agree with everything!

I think Gojo really hates the idea of a relationship more than anything and the vulnerability that comes with it. I think gojo really needs someone he can trust but he can never find it.

I loved this, too, I think it really summarizes what I think on him being a "cheater" and his personality. I will tell y'all loud and clear, I think gojo is a big asshole and he has major problems but cheating is not one of them.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐒

pairing: gojo satoru x reader summary: in an attempt to distract gojo, yaga sends him on a quest to locate you; a missing member of the zenin clan with prophetic dreams. genre: pre-relationship, humor, fluff notes: college gojo makes me feral. i think he would've been a menace. i also kind of want to continue this as a series of one shots (set in the same universe but not necessarily a multi-chapter fic). wc: ~3k song inspo ♫: ruby sparks by monet ngo

"i saw you in my dreams."

gojo chuckles at the words, a flirty smile appearing on his face as he tilts his head up to look at the person that's speaking to him. he can't help the way his eyes briefly widen when he sees your face, recognizing you as the very person he was sent to find.

he understands that yaga wants to give him a distraction, a getaway from all the shit that has happened to him in the past few years. but going undercover at the university of tokyo to locate you, a supposedly important jujutsu sorcerer, wasn't exactly how he wanted to spend his post-high school years. now that you're standing in front of him, he can't really find it in himself to complain. not when he realizes just how pretty you are.

he quickly composes himself, leaning back in his seat before motioning for you to sit. you glance at the seat across from him uncertainly, refusing to move. there's a conflicted look on your face as you scan your surroundings, almost as if looking for an escape route. you look like you regret speaking in the first place.

"i'm flattered, really," gojo says, shamelessly checking you out over his sunglasses. "but that's kind of a cheesy pickup line, isn't it?"

your nose scrunches up at you look at him, and you stutter a few times as you lean against the table. gojo watches with an amused smile that quickly drops when you finally gather your thoughts. "ew! that was not an attempt to flirt with you!"

there's a moment of silence before you sigh and slip into the seat across from gojo. you place your elbows on the table, head in your hands as you stare down at the table. another minute passes before you look up, making brief eye contact with gojo's sunglasses before fully laying your head down. "listen, this is gonna sounds crazy."

"try me," gojo says, smirking as he leans forward. one of his elbows rests on the table, check in hand as he watches you struggle with your thoughts.

he's never met you before, hell, he hasn't even seen you before this moment, but the faint cursed energy that surrounds you lets him know exactly who you are. you're a member of the zen'in clan, labeled as missing when your parents fled a couple years after you were born. the discovery of your prophetic dreams had made you an instant target, and you had been so well hidden from society that even gojo and yaga had had a hard time finding you. there was absolutely no information on your childhood or adolescence, and the only way they had managed to locate you was due to a wayward curse you had taken upon yourself to exorcise. the recent spike of your cursed energy had caused an uproar in the jujutsu community, and a race had begun to see who could get to you first.

between jujutsu high, the zen'in clan, the higher-ups, and a special grade curse, gojo thought he was the best option.

"okay, come on," gojo says, standing up and stretching before pushing his chair in. you finally look up, frustration visible on your face as you stare at him. your expression quickly morphs into confusion when gojo gently grabs your arm, tugging you up from your seat and slinging your bag over his shoulder before interlocking arms with you.

"where are we going?" you ask, stumbling after him. he's taller than you, and you find yourself struggling to keep up with his long strides.

"we're gonna go get some coffee!" he says, smiling at you. "i know a place. besides, i wanna know all about those dreams you had of me."

"you don't think i'm lying to you?" you say, eyeing him skeptically. "or that i'm crazy?"

your question goes unanswered, but the look he sends you makes your stomach twist with nervousness. there's a glint in his eye that catches you off guard, and you find yourself wondering if he knows more than he's letting on.

your mind races as he walks you off campus, chatting your ear off as you go. he doesn't receive a single response from you, yet your silence doesn't seem to bother him. if anything, it only motivates him to talk even more, and you find yourself almost enjoying the way he doesn't let the silence last more than a few seconds.

"oh look! there it is," gojo says, fully capturing your attention as he motions towards a small café. it's a small, charming place, one street over, visible through the alleyway the two of you are currently standing in front of. you come to a full stop when he makes a move to walk down the alley, inadvertently pulling him back to your side when he realizes you won't budge.

"what's wrong?" he asks, leaning down to catch your eye. you're met with a startingly blue gaze, and you shift from one foot to another as you tear your eyes away from him. "oh, i know! i bet you're nervous for our date!"

"this isn't a date!" you snap, finally pulling your arm away from him. you can feel a headache coming as he giggles, shoving his hands into his pockets as he walks into the alley. "wait!"

gojo halts at your words, turning around to fully face you. he watches you curiously as you take a few tentative steps forward, a shiver running down your spine when you enter the alley as well. there's a coldness seeping through your bones as you approach gojo, and when you turn to look behind you, it feels as though you've left the busy streets of tokyo completely.

"what's wrong?" gojo asks, the smile still on his face as he observes your reaction. you're almost certain that he knows something you don't at this point.

"this alley," you start, wringing your hands as you take a step back. "this is where we were. in my dream, i mean."

"and what exactly were we doing here?" gojo asks, his teasing tone earning a scowl from you. "this alley is quite inconspicuous, and we're all alone."

the insult you had ready dies on the tip of your tongue as you notice movement behind gojo, and his eyebrows furrow as he notices the sudden change in your demeanor.

"so, in my dream we were here. and you were in danger. i couldn't do anything to help and you—," you cut yourself off, nervousness coating your words as you start to close in on gojo. you ready yourself to fight, remembering every detail about your dream as the curse lurking in the alleyway reveals itself. you curse to yourself as it notices you, and you absentmindedly note that it seems be a grade 1 curse.

"and i?" gojo asks, curiosity coloring his words as he tilts his head in confusion. he hasn't moved at all, and you find yourself wondering if he can sense cursed spirits. in your dream it seemed like he could.

you inhale sharply as the curse lunges, and you notice too late that this scene isn't playing out the same way it had in your dream. you throw yourself at gojo, eyes wide with panic as you realize you're just a bit too far to reach him.

"you have to move!" you shriek, your heart pounding as gojo simply grins at you. he raises his hand silently, fingers twisting as he mutters something under his breath. the curse is killed instantly, and you find yourself collapsing to your knees as you look at gojo in shock.

"y-you—"

"me!" gojo cheers, cutting you off as he approaches you. he hauls you onto your feet and loops his arm with yours once again, guiding you past the disintegrating curse and emerging on the other side of the alley. you spare another glance back at the corpse, swallowing harshly before turning to look at the sorcerer standing next to you.

"who are you?" you ask quietly. the smile doesn't slip from gojo's face as he holds the cafe door open for you, following closely after you and guiding you to an empty table.

"how about we order first? and then i'll answer all of your questions," gojo says, picking up a stray menu and flipping through it casually as if he hasn't just taken down a grade 1 curse with ease. he notices your stare but doesn't comment on it, instead choosing to place the menu back on the table before waving over a server.

"can i get a slice of cake with two forks? oh! and two glasses of chocolate milk please."

gojo twiddles his thumbs as the two of you wait for your order, and you find yourself fully studying him for the first time since you approached him. he's sitting casually, leaning back slightly in a relaxed manner as he hums a song under his breath. when he notices your stare, he sends you a small grin and proceeds to go back to observing his surroundings.

he's much too relaxed for someone who just had an encounter with a curse, and you realize that he truly does know a lot more than you originally thought.

"here's your order!"

gojo thanks the server enthusiastically as you mutter your appreciation, your hands closing around the glass he pushes towards you without much thought.

"so, who are you?" you finally ask, repeating the question that gojo had ignored earlier. he laughs at your words, grabbing one of the forks and taking a bite of cake as he extends the other one to you. he waits for you to grab the fork, using his own to pick up another piece of cake before he notices you don't make a move to take it from him.

"what? you want me to feed you instead?" he asks, eyelashes fluttering as he gives you a flirty smile. he places the fork meant for you back on the table, leaning in closer and bringing his own fork to your mouth. "i guess that would be more date-like. okay, say ah!"

his enthusiasm dies down when he notices the frown tugging at your lips, and he deflates in defeat when you push his hand aside and reach for the other fork. you fiddle with it for a couple of seconds before placing it back down and looking at him with a glare.

"who are you?" you demand once more, your eye twitching in annoyance when gojo opens his mouth. you have no doubt he's about to say something stupid. "if you don't tell me, i will scream for help."

his mouth clamps shut as he studies you quietly, taking another bite of the cake before sighing.

"my name is gojo satoru," he finally says, holding his hand out to you as he introduces himself. you place your hand in his hesitantly, a gasp leaving you when he brings your hand up to his mouth and presses a soft kiss against your knuckles. "and you, you're a zen'in."

gojo watches as your eyes go wide at his words, and you yank your hand out his grasp before looking around nervously.

"no, i'm not," you say quietly. "i've never heard that name in my life."

you receive a funny look from gojo, and he crosses his arms before snorting. "yeah, ok. i totally believe you."

"how do you know that name," you say quietly, your eyes still scanning your surroundings. your shoulders are tense, and gojo can tell that you're seconds away from sprinting out of your seat and away from him.

"it's a pretty well known name in the jujutsu world," gojo responds, his head tilting as he looks at you questioningly. "so you know about curses, but not about the clans?"

"sorry, i'm afraid learning about the politics of the jujutsu world was the least of my worries," you reply sarcastically, rolling your eyes as you do so. gojo thinks it's kind of endearing. "the information on curses was much more important, so i kinda just tuned out my parents when they gave me that lecture."

gojo chuckles, shaking his head slightly at your words. he leans forward without much thought, holding out three fingers as he speaks. "there's three big jujutsu families that exist. there's the kamo clan, the gojo clan, and the zen'in clan. you and i belong to two of those. and all three of them are looking for you."

you shift in your seat at his words, giving him a wary glance before shrugging nonchalantly. "so you found me first. now what?"

there's a slight nervousness to your tone, causing gojo to frown. he shrugs, grabbing his glass and taking a drink. "i dunno. i wasn't sent on behalf of the gojo clan. i was sent by yaga masamichi, the principal of tokyo jujutsu high. we have no plans to turn you over to the higher-ups, it that makes this situation any better."

"then what do you plan on doing?"

"now that, i also don't know," gojo confesses. he notices the look of irritation on your face and chuckles. "all we know is that your power is too strong to be left unchecked. now, i'm not necessarily kidnapping you, but i am asking you to return to the school with me and speak with yaga. we think there's a way that your dreams could help jujutsu sorcerers know what they could possibly be dealing with on a mission ahead of time."

"i don't think that'll be possible," you mutter, frowning down at the table. you seem lost in thought, and gojo gives you a moment of silence before he speaks.

"what do you mean by that?" gojo's voice is soft, his eyebrows knit in concern as you give him a worried look.

"i mean that i don't think my dreams are reliable," you whisper, panic lacing your words.

"they're prophetic dreams!" gojo yells quietly. "what do you mean they're not reliable."

"ok, look," you say, pausing to reach for the half-eaten slice of cake. you finally take a bite, eyes lighting up as you hum with delight. "that is good! ok, anyways, i don't think my dreams are truly prophetic."

"that's literally not possible," gojo argues, eyes wide in disbelief. "it's a part of your cursed technique! everyone knows that the zen'in clan members with this ability are never wrong."

"well they are now!"

"what do you mean by that?"

"i mean that my dream wasn't accurate," you explain, taking another bite of the cake. you ignore gojo's confused look, sighing before pushing the plate back towards him. "that dream i had of you? yeah the real-life scenario didn't play out the way it was supposed to."

gojo's stare hardens as he processes your words, and he pushed the cake aside as he looks at you questioningly. "what do you mean it didn't play out the way it was supposed to?"

"you were supposed to die," you confess, your voice no louder than a whisper. the silence between the two of you is heavy, and you wonder if your admission was much too harsh. "in my dream, the curse attacked you after i failed to protect you. i don't know what changed."

"well, i'm the strongest sorcerer alive, so there's your answer," gojo says, an uncertain smile on his face as he tries to lighten the mood. "besides, i had to step up my game. i wasn't going to leave someone as precious as you to defend yourself."

his efforts pay off as you huff out a laugh. it's weak, but it manages to dispel the heaviness that had been previously present.

"listen," gojo begins, his tone uncharacteristically serious for the first time since you've approached him. "i'm not trying to freak you out or anything, but that's incredibly strange. there has never been a zen'in prophetic dream that didn't come true. i really think you should speak with yaga, or tengen. but i won't force you to."

"tengen?" you ask, confusion on your face as you look down at the table. "who's that?"

"long story," gojo breathes, making the decision to let yaga fill you in on that. "but what do you say? i'd really like to figure this out, but i kinda need you in order to be able to do that."

there's a moment of hesitation on your end, and gojo finds himself tensing up as he waits for you to speak. he's almost certain that you're going to decline, and he's afraid that once you walk out of the café, you'll be gone forever once again. his fears are dispelled when you look up to meet his gaze, determination clearly visible in your eyes as you nod.

"okay, i'll go with you."

"great!" gojo says, his grin reappearing as he stands. he places a small wad of cash on the table before walking around the table to you and offering you his hand. you've barely slipped your hand into his before he tugs you towards him, his grin getting wider as you bump into his chest. you don't get the chance to say anything before he's walking out of the café, throwing a cursory glance around before heading down the street. "let's get out of here. we shouldn't stay in one place too long, just in case."

gojo chatters endlessly once again as you presumably head towards tokyo jujutsu high, and you find yourself staring at him as you recall your entire day in your mind. gojo satoru had single-handedly disrupted the course of fate, and neither one of you had any idea as to how.

you can feel a headache coming on the longer you stare at him, and you finally look away when he glances back at you and gives you a charming grin.

you have no idea who gojo satoru is, but if he has the power to change the course of your prophetic dreams, then you're determined to find out more about him.

and he sure as hell wasn't going to complain about that.

reblogs are appreciated <3 thank you for reading!!

𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐃

pairing: gojo satoru x reader summary: gojo lies to shoko in order to win a bet and you're dragged along for the ride. genre: fake-dating, friends to lovers, more slice-of-life than action, attempted humor notes: encounters w/ megumi, nobara, yuuji, and nanami. ummm there's a lunch date, gojo is just a mess, really. wc: ~5.4k song inspo ♫: stream by last dinosaurs

"Is it true?"

You look up from your laptop, glancing at Shoko as she bursts through your door. She composes herself quickly, straightening her lab coat before looking at you expectantly. Your eye twitches as you see Gojo peek his head out behind her, looking at you and desperately nodding his head. You let your gaze drift back to Shoko, who is now standing with her arms crossed as she taps her foot against the ground impatiently.

In a moment of weakness, you glance back at Gojo, huffing lightly before listening to him and nodding.

"Oh my god," Shoko whispers, mild horror on her face as she takes a step back. "Gojo? Really?"

You nod once more, confusion visible on your face as Gojo gives you a thumbs up. Shoko shakes her head, placing both of her palms on your desk before leaning down. You lean back slightly, caught off guard by her sudden proximity.

"Have you hit your head recently?"

"No, I haven't," you reply slowly, pushing your laptop to the side. "I haven't even been on any missions lately. What's this all about?"

Gojo stifles a laugh.

"Interesting," Shoko hums, staring at you for a few more seconds before straightening. She spares a glance at Gojo, eyes narrowing as she studies him. A sigh leaves her lips after a couple of seconds, and she gives you a sympathetic look before heading towards the door. She stops in front of Gojo briefly, tense as she looks up at him and speaks through gritted teeth. "Fine, I believe you. You're the strongest and handsomest jujutsu sorcerer of all time and I will never meet a man that's better than you."

"Thanks, I know," Gojo replies, a huge grin on his face as she scowls. She slips something into his hand, proceeding to flip him off as she finally disappears down the hall. Gojo turns his attention towards you, slipping into your office and shutting the door behind him before taking a seat in the chair in front of your desk.

He's relaxed as he kicks his feet up onto the table, leaning back into the chair and placing his arms behind his head as you frown. You throw a piece of paper at him, glaring at him when he shoots you a betrayed look.

"Get your feet off of my desk," you chastise, letting your gaze drift back to the report in front of you. The click of your keyboard is almost hypnotic as silence falls over the two of you, and Gojo begrudgingly puts his legs down, opting to place one leg over the other. It's not long before you click your tongue, repeating the question you had asked earlier. "So, will you tell me what that was about?"

"What ever do you mean?"

"Gojo," you say sternly, giving him a dry look over the top of your laptop. Your eyes flicker to his hand, still holding on to whatever it was that Shoko had given him. "C'mon, let me see what's in your hand."

You think that there might be a soft blush tinting Gojo's cheeks as he brings his hand forward, slowly unfurling his fingers to reveal a smushed packet of cigarettes. The confusion is clear on your face as you look up to meet what you assume to be his eyes (the blindfold makes it hard to tell, really), and he shyly turns his head away as you wait for an explanation.

"Shoko and I made a bet," Gojo finally says, flipping his hand over to let the cigarette packet fall onto the table. At your unamused look, he continues. "She said that the day I got someone respectable to date me would be the day she stopped smoking, and well..."

Silence ensues as he trails off, vaguely motioning to you as he clamps his mouth shut. Your eyes soften at his words, and you lean forwards to grab the cigarette packet before tossing it into the trash.

"So you told her we were together?" you ask, humming softly as everything begins to make sense. Gojo nods softly, still refusing to look your way. You ignore the way your heart leaps into your throat. "I'm flattered you think so highly of me, Gojo."

There's a pause after your words, and neither one of you quite know how to break the ice that has clearly formed. It isn't until Gojo clears his throat that you spit out the first words that come to mind, eager to keep talking to him even if it's just for a few minutes.

"So what was the reward?"

Your question brings Gojo's attention back to you, and he says nothing as you feel his gaze settle on you.

"For the bet?" you prompt, breaking Gojo out of whatever daze he was in. "What would each of you get if you won?"

"She wanted those stupid, fancy cigarettes from France," Gojo muttered, tilting his head up towards the ceiling in a way that made you wonder if he was rolling his eyes. "And a stupid, fancy dinner at that restaurant she loves so much."

"And I'm assuming you got to hear those very nice words from her in return if you won," you tease, a smile breaking out onto your face as Gojo breathes out a laugh.

"Yeah," he admits, running a hand through his hair before slouching and sinking into his seat. "I never would've gotten her to say that otherwise. Oh! And the cigarettes. I told her that if I won the bet then she needed to hand them over. I don't like that she's been smoking more often these days."

You feel your heart warm at his words, only to sober up when you realize there's a huge flaw in his plans.

"Gojo, wait," you say, eyebrows furrowing as you bite your lower lip in concern. "There's an issue here. We aren't dating."

"Do you want to?"

Gojo's response is instantaneous, and it takes everything you have to keep yourself from reacting to his words. You hum thoughtfully, doing your best to pretend his words don't have a profound impact on you as you throw a pen at him.

"Be serious," you hiss, rolling your eyes when he chuckles at your action. The pen bounces off of him harmlessly, and you scoff as it happens. "Sooner or later, Shoko is gonna realize we aren't really dating and she's gonna demand a lot more than that dinner."

The smile falls off Gojo's face when he realizes your words are true, and he groans as he leans forward, elbows on his knees as he cradles his head in his hands. "You're right. We're screwed!"

"You're screwed," you quip, smiling smugly when he looks up at you, mouth agape in disbelief.

"C'mon! You gotta help me! You're really gonna leave me all alone to face Shoko's wrath?" Gojo's lips are pursed in an exaggerated pout, and you're certain that if he were to remove his blindfold, his eyes would be shining with unshed tears in an attempt to guilt you into helping him.

"Oh my god, what the hell is wrong with you. I don't have to do anything."

"Please. I'll do anything you want!"

You hesitate at his words, a smile appearing on his face once again as he realizes you're seriously contemplating listening to him.

"Anything?" you ask quietly.

"Anything." he states confidently.

"Okay then," you say smugly, crossing your arms as you grin. "I want that fancy dinner Shoko wanted."

You realize you've made a mistake when Gojo gasps, proceeding to then hold his hands to his heart as he pretends to swoon. "My, my, are you asking me out on a date?"

"No!" you shriek, taking a deep breath before standing up from your chair and making your way to the door. "You know what, nevermind. I'm gonna go talk to Shoko."

"Wait, wait! No! I was kidding," Gojo pleads, shooting out of his seat as he follows you. His hand slams on the door before you can even open it, and he squeezes in front of you to block your path, his back up against the door as he slides down to rest his head on your shoulder. "I'll take you out to dinner, just don't speak with Shoko! Besides, it'll make this relationship look more authentic if we go on dates!"

"Relationship?" you ask, shock lacing your words as you gently shove Gojo off of your shoulder.

"Yes," Gojo confirms, shaking his head firmly before taking both of your hands in his. "To keep Shoko from finding out I lied, we have to date. We can't let her get suspicious."

When he notices the mildly horrified look on your face, Gojo hastily rephrases his words.

"Or at least fake date! From now on, you're my pseudo-partner!"

Out of all the friends you made during your time at Jujutsu Tech, you had always known Mei Mei and Gojo to be the biggest gossips in existence. Heck, even Geto had been prone to getting carried away by gossip, his dark eyes gleaming with interest as he'd pull you aside to chat.

And yet, Ieiri Shoko was the reason that the entirety of Jujutsu Tech knew about your "relationship" with Gojo.

"So it's true?"

Megumi is the first to corner you after class, an unreadable look on his face as he stares you down. You wonder if playing dumb would work on him.

"Is what true?" you ask, tilting your head to one side questioningly as you gather your materials. The blank look he gives you is answer enough, and you sigh to yourself as you wonder why you thought you could ever deceive Fushiguro Megumi. You shoulders slump as you lean against the wall, giving up on your innocent act and sending him a weak smile before replying. "If we're thinking about the same thing then yes, it is."

There's an almost relieved expression on Megumi's face, his green eyes softening as he nods. The gesture is more to himself than to you. You wonder what he's thinking about.

"Well it's about time!" Nobara yells, bouncing up to Megumi and resting her elbow on his shoulder. The scene before you is almost comical, especially because of their height difference. The trio is completed as Yuuji comes up behind the two of them, his head peeking through the space between Nobara and Megumi as he sends you a bright grin.

"Congrats," Megumi mutters, his eyes narrowing into an instinctive glare when Gojo comes sauntering into the room. There's a wide grin on his face as he comes to a stop next to you, throwing an arm over your shoulder and bringing you into his side. Nobara snickers at your flustered expression, and you think that there might be a faint smile on Megumi's face. "I was surprised to hear that he finally asked you out."

There's a loud laugh immediately after Megumi's words, and the four of you turn to face Gojo as he waves his three students off. "Shouldn't you all be getting to class?"

"Class is over," Megumi replies dully, an eyebrow raising as he studies Gojo.

"What do you mean by that, Megumi?" you ask, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

"I mean that he's had a cr—"

Megumi's words are cut off as Gojo lunges forward, slapping a hand over the younger boy's mouth and ushering him out the door. "Well, it was nice to see the three of you but you really should get going now. Bye!"

"Wait!" Nobara yells, a wicked grin on her face as she looks back at you. "Did you know that he never shuts up—"

Her words are also cut off as Gojo slams the door, making sure to lock it before turning around to face you. There's an awkward grin on his face, his breaths loud and fast as he tries to recover from the incident that just occurred.

"What was that all about?" you ask, crossing your arms as Gojo comes to stand in front of you.

"What are you talking about?"

You're reminded of the conversation that the two of you had in your office a few days ago, and you simply rub the bridge of your nose before grabbing your bag and heading to the door. "You know what? Forget it, I don't think I want to know. Why are you here?"

"There's no need to be so cold," Gojo says, a pout on his face as he approaches you. There's a mocking smile on your face as you move past him to grab the door knob, and Gojo feels his cheeks heating up as he looks away. You pause after unlocking the door, looking back to observe him before placing your hands on your hips.

"Well? What is it?"

"Nothing, forget it. I can't stand to look at you right now. You're so mean to me," Gojo huffs, crossing his arms as a snort escapes you. He refuses to look even as he hears you approach, and he briefly closes his eyes even though he knows you can't see him do so.

Neither one of you notices when the door slides open.

"Don't be difficult," you chide, leaning to try and catch his attention. He turns his head even more, a smile threatening to pull at his lips as he recognizes just how ridiculous he's being. You shake your head softly, reaching up to cup his cheek and turn his head to face you. Gojo's cheeks turn a soft pink, and he turns his head the other way, hoping that you hadn't noticed. He's stopped by your other hand, and he finds his throat going dry when he realizes that you are cradling his face in your hands.

You've pulled him down slightly, doing your best to get to eye level with him. He can't stop himself from leaning into your palms, feeling your fingers twitch at the sudden pressure before they skim the top of his cheekbones.

"So now that I have your attention again," you start, a softer smile now adorning your lips. Gojo absentmindedly thinks that you always seem to have his attention. "Why did you come to my class? Did you need my help with something?"

"Yeah," Gojo breathes, his arms unfolding and falling limp to his sides. He's closer than he was before, and he wonders who began to lean in first. He hopes it was you. "I was going to ask you if— Yuuji?!"

He straightens up immediately, putting distance between the two of you as he walks toward the door. You flounder for a moment, shutting your eyes and taking a deep breath before turning around. Standing in the doorway are your three students, with Megumi being squished in between a smiling Nobara and a bashful Yuuji.

The silence is broken as Gojo takes a step towards the door, towering over the three teenagers as he tucks his hands into his pockets.

"I thought I told you three to leave," Gojo hisses, leaning down to be face level with Megumi. Yuuji shrinks behind him, but Nobara and Megumi remain in their places.

"We were curious." is all Megumi says in response.

"Curious about what?" you ask, coming up next to Gojo and leaning against the doorway. One of your eyebrows is raised, and Yuuji grins before stepping back up to Megumi's side.

"About the two of you!" Yujji says, wiggling his eyebrows as he glances between you and Gojo. His playful expression drops when Megumi elbows him, and a tiny smile remains on his face as leans against him.

"But our curiosity is sated. Or at least, mine is," Nobara adds, a bored look on her face as she turns around. "I seriously doubted that Gojo had asked you out but I guess I was wrong. I'm gonna go find Maki."

The four of you watch as Nobara walks away, and your attention is only torn away when Megumi steps closer to you. He's wearing a conflicted look on his face, and if you didn't know any better, you might've thought he was constipated.

"I'm... happy for you," Megumi finally says, his words sounding strangled as he glances at Gojo. Not even a second passes before Gojo is on Megumi, hugging him and pinching his cheeks as he coos over his words.

"I knew you cared about me, Gumi!" Gojo cries, immediately flinching in pain when Megumi kicks him. Regardless, he refuses to relinquish his hold, and you can't help the way your eyes widen when Megumi attempts to go in and bite Gojo's arm.

"Okay!" you yell, rushing forward and grabbing Gojo's arm. You gently pry his hands off of Megumi's face, and you smile when the green-eyed boy sends you a grateful look. "That's enough terrorizing teenagers for a day, don't you think?"

"Terrorizing?" Gojo gasps, swooning dramatically as he shifts his focus to you. "I have nothing but love and affection for my Gumi. I would never terrorize him."

It's almost comical to see you, Megumi, and Yuuji all turn to face Gojo, disbelieving looks on your faces as you look at the white-haired sorcerer.

"Yeah, okay."

"Whatever," Gojo grumbles, shaking his head before he slides his arm out of your grasp. The physical contact remains, however, when he reaches for your hand and intertwines your fingers with his. You vaguely register the way Megumi gapes at the sight, too busy with how warm his hand was to truly be present. "Since you insist I leave Megumi alone, I say we leave. Perhaps get some lunch? That's what I came in to ask you about in the first place anyways."

He doesn't give you the chance to answer before he's pulling you down the hall, remembering to shoot a quick wave over his shoulder at his two remaining students.

"He really likes them, doesn't he?" Yuuji asks, his head tilted to the side as he watches the two of you leave.

"Yeah," Megumi replies, also observing the two of you. He'd never admit it, but Yuuji notices the fond look in his eyes as he looks at you and Gojo. "He really does."

Lunch is an awkward affair. Or at least, it is for you.

Gojo has not stopped staring at you since you sat down, not even when the waitress came by to take your order, and you feel like you're losing your mind as you try to avoid looking his way. A part of you wonders if he's really looking at you, especially considering the fact that his blindfold is still on. But training to be a jujutsu sorcerer has helped you hone your instincts, and deep down you're sure that he's been watching you for the past twenty minutes.

You thank the waitress when she places your order down on the table, and you dig into your meal almost immediately. You pause when you notice that Gojo hasn't moved, hands laced together under his chin to support his head as he studies you.

"I thought you said you can't stand to see me," you say dryly, leaning back from the table and finally looking up at him.

"That's why the blindfold is on," he replies cheekily. You scoff at his response before finally taking a bite of food, your eyes lighting up when you do so.

"This is delicious!" you rave, giving Gojo a surprised look before taking another small bite. "How'd you find this place."

"Someone recommended it to me."

"Who?"

"Someone who really, really likes food," Gojo says mysteriously. You give him a blank look, shaking your head at his antics.

"Let me guess," you say, giving him a smug smile. "Nanami?"

Gojo deflates in his seat, and you hold back a chuckles at his reaction.

"Yeah," he responds dully, looking down at the table. "Nanami."

"Yes?"

The two of you look up to see Nanami himself standing next to your table, a tired look on his face as he looks at Gojo.

"Nanami! Hello!" you say excitedly, earning a tiny smile from him. "I haven't seen you in so long, how are you?"

"I'm fine," he says tiredly, absentmindedly straightening his tie before continuing. "How about you?"

"I'm good!" you respond, smiling brightly as you turn to face him. "I'm actually—"

"On a date," Gojo cuts in, smiling innocently up at Nanami. "With me."

"I see," Nanami says quietly, glancing between the two of you before his eyes settle on Gojo. "So it's true."

"Yup, we're dating!" Gojo proclaims proudly, a smug look on his face as he finally, finally, picks up a bite of his food and tries it.

There's a mildly concerned look on Nanami's as he meets your eyes, and you notice the way his eyebrows furrow before he speaks. "I'm sorry."

There's a loud cough as Gojo chokes on his food, and the two of you turn to watch him reach for his napkin before taking a sip of water.

"Hey!" he exclaims, pausing when he lets out another cough. There's an unamused look on Nanami's face as he watches him, and he turns back to look at you as he places a hand on your shoulder.

"I'm really sorry."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Gojo cries, an irritated pout on his lips as he stares at Nanami's hands. "You say that like being with me is a bad thing."

"Well you know what they say: if the shoe fits."

You think you see a faint smile on Nanami's lips, and you hold back a giggle as you realize that he's teasing Gojo. And based on the scandalized look that Gojo sends his way, you can tell it's working.

"I'm a good boyfriend!" Gojo argues, looking at you as he motions towards Nanami. "Tell him!"

"He's right," you say with a laugh. "He's been very sweet and he even paid for lunch!"

"Well, I suppose the heart wants what it wants," Nanami finally says, removing his hand from your shoulder before looking over at the counter. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go eat before it's too late for lunch. Congratulations."

You wave as Nanami walks away before picking up your silverware once more. You pause when you feel Gojo's fingers brush against your other hand, before fully engulfing it in his. There's a confused smile on your face as you stare at him, flipping over your hand so you were palm to palm with his.

"Am I a good boyfriend?" he asks suddenly, catching you off guard with his words. You look at him for a little longer, blinking rapidly before you realized he was genuinely asking.

"The best," you say, squeezing his hand softly before leaning down to take a bite of food.

He looks down at the table and smiles.

Lunch dates with Gojo become common, the two of you exploring new restaurants and cafes every chance you got.

Holding hands with Gojo also becomes common, along with him paying for anything you wanted. (Whenever you'd argue and insist you'd pay, he would simply wave you off, making a comment about how he wouldn't be a good boyfriend if he didn't spoil you any chance he got.)

It’s only when Maki remarks that you never keep your hands off of each other that you finally come to a conclusion.

You are in love with Gojo Satoru.

And that’s the realization that currently has you running down the halls.

"Shoko!" you cry, bursting into her office and collapsing onto the chair across from her desk. She gives you an alarmed look, quickly scanning your body and relaxing slightly when she doesn't see any visible injuries.

"What's wrong?" she asks, concern lacing her voice as she studies your expression.

"I've come to a horrible realization," you say, eyes wide as you looked at her, trying to make her understand just how important this conversation was. She waves her hand, signaling for you to continue.

"I'm in love with Gojo," you whisper, looking slightly horrified when you realize you've finally said the words out loud. You glare at Shoko when she snorts, and she leans back in her seat as she looks at you expectantly.

"Yeah, I kinda assumed," she says dully, her tone making it seem as though you had stated a fact. you throw your head back and groan, throwing an arm over your eyes as you try to get comfortable.

"Is it that obvious?" you whine. There's a sigh from Shoko as she observes you, and you're glad that you're not looking at her in that moment. You don't think you can handle the look you know she's wearing.

"Yeah, you're dating." Shoko scoffs, stretching her leg out under her desk to kick at you.

"No, we're not," you admit, turning away from the ceiling to give her a guilty look. "He lied to you."

A strangled noise leaves Shoko's throat, and she wastes no time before reaching into her desk drawer and pulling out a packet of cigarettes. You give her a scowl, standing up and leaning over the desk to try and snatch them away from her. She swats you away, and you give a resigned sigh before sinking into your seat once more.

"That motherfucker," Shoko grumbles, pulling a lighter out of her coat pocket and flicking it. You watch as she lights the cigarette in her mouth, giving her a disappointed look that she chooses to ignore. She leans in slightly, taking a drag of the cigarette before nodding her head at you. "Why'd he lie to me?"

"Well he said that your cigarettes were on the line," you admit, also leaning in closer to the desk. You slide the ashtray on the corner of her desk closer to her, earning a thankful look. "All he had to do was get someone respectful to date him and you'd stop. So I helped him, because I've also been concerned about your smoking habits lately."

A loud laugh leaves Shoko's lips at your words, and you give her a confused look when she puts her cigarette out. There's a wide grin on her face as she gives you a knowing look, and you find yourself shifting in your seat as she just stares.

"He lied to you," she finally says, her voice even and tone casual, as though she hadn't just dropped a truth bomb on you.

"He what? Why?" you ask, eyebrows furrowing in confusion as you process her words. "Why would he lie to me about that?"

"Because," Shoko says, the smile still on her face. "The original bet wasn't that he had to date someone respectable. The original bet was that Gojo should grow a pair and finally ask out the person he's been in love with since we graduated high school."

You sit silently for a moment, so still that Shoko thinks you might not be breathing. She reaches over to poke your shoulder earning a wide-eyed look from you as her words echo in your head.

"He's in love with me?" you shriek.

Shoko laughs.

You've become more fidgety lately, enough to the point that Gojo notices.

When he reaches for your hand, you flinch, giving him a nervous smile and an apology before lacing your fingers with his. Every time he slings an arm around your shoulders, you tense, and Gojo can't help but ask you every time if his actions are okay. You always say yes.

Gojo notices you're often lost in thought, looking off into the distance and giving him an embarrassed smile when he waves his hand in front of your face to get your attention. He wonders what's happened, especially considering you've never been one to get lost inside of your own head.

It's not until the two of you are eating lunch (in his office this time) that he finally breaks, lowering the sunglasses he had chosen to wear that day and giving you a curious glance before speaking.

"So what's wrong?"

His question breaks you out of your dazed state, and you slide your lunch to the side before giving him a mildly convincing smile.

"What are you talking about?" you ask, tilting your head as you try to give him an innocent look. Gojo snorts at your response, remembering all the times he's answered your questions with those exact same words.

"That won't work on me," he chides, reaching out to grab your hand. His thumb skims the top of your knuckles, and you giggle nervously before trying to pull your hand back. His grip tightens slightly, and you sigh before grabbing onto his hand as well. "Now c'mon. Tell Gojo what's on your mind."

You raise an eyebrow, giving him an unimpressed look before sighing.

"I told Shoko," you admit quietly, watching as his eyes widen in surprise. "About... us."

"Oh," Gojo breathes, blinking rapidly. His hand goes limp around your own and you wait for him to keep speaking, but he only stares at you in return. You take the opportunity to slide your hand out of his grip, meeting no resistance this time as you do so.

"So I guess she wants that dinner right?" he asks, laughing hollowly as he runs a hand through his hair.

"Gojo," you say, your tone serious as you stare at him. "She told me the truth. About the bet."

"Oh," he repeats, his hand falling limply to his desk. He swallows harshly, giving you an unreadable look before leaning back in his seat. "Is that why you've been so distant lately?"

"Distant?" you echo, eyebrows furrowing. "I haven't been— oh."

You cut yourself off as you realize what Gojo means. All your avoidance, all the freezing up under his touch— he thought you were trying to distance yourself from him.

"I was trying to figure out..." you trail off, closing your eyes briefly in an attempt to hype yourself up. "I was trying to figure out how to tell you I feel the same."

There's a sharp intake of breath at your words, your whispered confession hanging in the air for a few seconds. You refuse to look up when you hear Gojo leave his seat, your heart pounding as he rounds his desk to approach you.

"Are you telling the truth?" Gojo whispers, his head hanging low as he crouches next to your chair. His voice is hoarse when he speaks again, and you find yourself glancing his way when his fingers graze yours. "Please, tell me you are. I know it was my idea, but I can't keep pretending we’re together when I’m in love with you."

"I am."

The words are barely out of your mouth when Gojo reaches out, his fingers splayed out across your cheek as he cups your jaw. You can feel him leaning in closer, his eyes closing when he leans his forehead against yours.

"You promise?" he mumbles. Your breath catches in your throat as you nod. "Good."

He leans in even closer, pausing when his nose bumps against yours. There's a brief moment of stillness before you take charge, leaning forward to close the gap between the two of you. Your lips meet in a soft kiss, and you pull away slightly, meeting Gojo's eyes briefly before the two of you dive right back in for another.

Your lips move in tandem with his, and you feel your stomach twist as he deepens the kiss. He gently pulls you off your seat, shifting so that his back is against his desk as he pulls you on to his lap. You straddle him without objection, his hands coming down to grab your waist as he pulls you closer to him.

Gojo pouts as you pull away to catch your breath, and he only reaches up to grab your chin and pull you down, pressing a multitude of soft kisses to your lips as his hold on your tightens.

"You know," you mumble in between kisses, your eyes fluttering as you lean further back. Gojo's lips chase yours. "When Shoko found out the truth, she had a packet of cigarettes ready to go."

"Well," Gojo starts, grabbing your hand with his as he presses another kiss to your lips. "I guess that means we just gotta go take them from her. After all, a bet is a bet."

extra:

Gojo eventually tells the first years, the second years, Shoko, Nanami, and even Yaga that the two of you are dating "for realsies". They're all confused until Shoko tells them about the bet and Maki immediately asks if you're sure you want to be with him. Gojo yells at her and she then proceeds to call Yuuta, who hesitantly congratulates the two of you over the phone.

rbs are appreciated <3 ty for reading!!

PLS HELP ME FIND THIS FIC

I’m trying to find this fic because I accidentally deleted my acc😭😭

It was about baby daddy Gojo the reader and him aren’t together but they co-parent, and he’s gf nova I think was her name is really weird and likes to encourage for the readers and gojo daughter to call her mama, when the reader starts dating toji he kinda starts realizing gojo still loves her, gojo mom doesn’t like the reader and the last thing I remember is Gojos dad is divorcing the mom

PLS HELP ME FIND THIS FIC

SOBER THOUGHTS, satoru gojo

drunk!!satoru gojo x fem!!reader summary: Satoru Gojo stumbles into y/n's house at 2 in the morning shit-faced leading to some untimely late-night confessions. tw!! mild swearing, drunk gojo, steamy scenes? nothing too serious don't worry!! alcohol abuse, FLUFF (like a shit ton of it). Over 3,000 words :))) notes: I'm so fucking obsessed with this man how do I make it stop?!

y/n shakenly stood from her warm bed, pupils the size of peas as she reached into her bedside drawer to pull out a handgun she kept hidden there.

It was 2 in the morning and she had been awakened to the sound of the handle on her front door rattling. At first, she tried to ignore it- her front door is locked so she shouldn't have to worry about anyone getting into her home.

But then she heard the turn of her lock and the sound of her squeaky front door being pushed open.

She had hoped that she would never have to use the handgun she kept in her bedside drawer. She still didn't plan on using it on the intruder- she was simply going to scare them away with it.

Gritting her teeth, she crept down her stairs- gun drawn. Her mind started to wander with the fear that maybe the gun wouldn't scare the intruder off. What would she do then? She definitely doesn't have the guts to shoot anyone.

She hoped that her instinct would kick in if something like that were to ever happen. She hoped that if it came down to it she would protect herself instead of just standing there like a coward.

Stumbling could be heard from her kitchen- only adding to the pooling anxiety in her stomach. The kitchen is the worst place an intruder could go- there are weapons everywhere in kitchens.

Gulping, she edged towards the kitchen, hands shaking. She paused for a moment to try and calm her nerves before turning the corner into the kitchen. If she wanted to be threatening she couldn't look terrified at the mere fact of holding a gun.

A determined look appears in her dark gaze and she steps to the side with the gun pointed at the intruder. However, she wasn't expecting the sight of a familiar figure going through her fridge.

"Wha- Satoru?"

No longer was adrenaline pumping through her veins as she locked onto who it was that was going through her fridge. The tall man flinched in surprise at her small voice, turning his head to look at her with a handful of candyfloss grapes in his hands.

The motion sensor fridge light barely lit up the kitchen but she could still catch the many details of his face. He wasn't wearing his usual black blindfold that concealed his striking blue eyes- instead, he wore his round-shaped shades. Due to this, his white hair hung down his face messily.

Despite that he still looked as beautiful as ever to her.

But even then, with the harsh hue of the fridge light- she could assess quite quickly that he had been drinking. A goofy smile appears on his face as he swallows a grape with a notable gulp.

"y/n!!"He exclaimed, shoving the remainder of the grapes into the fridge.

She sighed, her shoulders slumping as she dropped her arm that was holding the gun. The adrenaline disappears and she is reminded of just how tired she is. It's 2 in the morning and she had been working all day with little sleep- she should be sleeping right now.

"Why did I ever give you a spare key?"She grumbled to herself as she pinched the bridge of her nose in irritation. --"I could have shot you, Satoru!!"She exclaimed- setting the gun carefully onto her kitchen work surface.

He only scoffed and swatted a hand in the air as he walked towards her. --"Oh please- we both know the bullet wouldn't even touch me."He spoke through slurred words.

As he approached closer- she crinkled her nose up, getting a large whiff of the alcohol he had so clearly been abusing earlier in the night.

" 'missed you..."He purred as he stopped in front of her, slinging his arms around her shoulders and resting his forehead against her collarbone.

"How drunk are you?"She mumbled softly, lifting a hand to rest tentatively against the back of his head. She was worried. Gojo isn't a massive drinker, he barely drinks alcohol. In fact, he only drank it when he was upset or feeling vulnerable.

He hummed comedically against her shoulder and lifted a hand up in front of her face- his fingers pinching the air. --"Only a little."He responded.

A sigh leaves her lips and she lifts her hands to rest on his shoulders- pushing him back slightly so she can look at his face properly. --"Alright come on you big idiot."She mumbled, grabbing ahold of his wrist and tugging him deeper into the kitchen.

Satoru stood swaying on his feet as he watched her search her cupboards for something in particular. His drunken gaze looked her up and down, a fond smile growing on her face.

y/n was in her pyjama's. She wore a sky-blue baggy shirt that Satoru was certain was his. (He would often come over to watch movies with her if he had no one else to bother so her wardrobe was probably actually filled with quite a few of his shirts). Along with the baggy shirt she wore a pair of banana patterned pyjama shorts. Her long dark hair was messy and poofy with volume.

He thought she looked beautiful.

"You look pretty."He spoke suddenly as she had her head in a cupboard. Her eyes widened in surprise- surprised so much that she banged her head atop the cupboard with a bang.

She cussed at herself and pulled her head out from the cupboard- rubbing a hand against the top of her head as she glanced over to the drunk standing in her kitchen.

Not sure how to respond to that, she decided to ignore it and instead grabbed ahold of a plastic cup to fill it up with water. Clearing her throat, she turned to him and held the cup out for him.

He eyed the cup blankly.

"I mean it..."He mumbled to her, his gaze switching back to look at her. She swallows as his shades slip down the bridge of his nose a little, allowing his striking blue eyes to meet her dark ones.

A beat of silence passes them as her cheeks go red. Swallowing, she clears her throat again and pushes the cup of water into his hand.

"Drink."She demands. He eyes the cup in his hand for a moment- seeming to deliberate something in his mind for a moment.

"no."He finally mumbles, setting the cup of water onto the worksurface. y/n sighs and drags a hand down her face in irritation. --"Satoru-"

He cuts her off by pressing a hand to her mouth- her words coming out muffled. Her eyes widened in outrage as she slapped his hand away from her face.

"You did not just-"She snaps. But she goes completely silent when both of Satoru's hands suddenly pressed to her cheeks- his face moving incredibly close to hers.

Her heart paused- pupils dilating as his face got close to hers. Heat rushed to her cheeks and her eyes went wind at the invasion. Another beat of silence passed them as neither of them spoke.

"W-What are you doing?"She finally murmured, voice shaky with nerves. Gojo didn't answer for a moment, his adams apple bobbing slightly.

"needed you to stop talking..."He mumbled, his alcohol-infested breath fanning her face. His voice made her stomach do flips despite the disgusting breath he was currently harbouring.

His face then suddenly got even closer to hers- their noses basically brushing. She gulped notably, chest heaving slightly with nerves. His tongue slips out to moisten his lips as his striking blue eyes drink her up from behind his round shades.

And then he said something that was almost like glass smashing to y/n. Something that made her heart stutter in her chest. Something that made butterflies sprout in her stomach. Something that immediately woke her up from her previous sleepy deliriousness.

"I love you, y/n."

She shook her head softly but he kept a firm grip on her cheeks. --"And I know you love me too..."He continued as she continued to shake her head, tears sprouting in her eyes. With embarrassment or humiliation? She wasn't sure.

"No- you're drunk, Satoru.."She whispered, voice shaky as she tried to take a step back from him only for her back to meet the edge of her kitchen counter.

Satoru took the opportunity to cage her into the counter with his arms. --"m'yeah."He grumbled in response to her words- moving his face close to hers again. --"Why d'you think I have the guts to confess?"He slurred.

Her hands rested palm first against the cold worksurface, chest heaving as she stared up at him. She sank her teeth into her bottom lip to stop the quivering as he leaned closer- making sure she couldn't escape from his cagey embrace.

Part of her wanted to deny his claims but she didn't. She could never lie to Satoru. --"H-How did you-?"She stuttered out. neck going red with humiliation.

"Nanami told me..."He mumbled.

Nanami. That little shit-

y/n worked with Nanami back when he was still working for an office. She met Satoru not long after meeting Nanami because at that point he was still trying to convince Nanami to continue as a jujutsu sorcerer.

At the time, Gojo took a strange liking to her and exchanged numbers with her. They grew closer and he wound up telling her about the jujutsu world. Even after Nanami left to become a jujutsu sorcerer, she kept in close contact with both him and Gojo.

In fact, she kept in such close contact with Gojo that he would bring her back souvenirs from his missions if he was going far away. She even gave him a spare key to her apartment after he started complaining that he would sometimes have to wait ages before giving her the thing he brought back for her due to her busy work life.

After she gave him the spare key he started to leave the souvenirs either on her bed or kitchen counter, sometimes even leaving little handwritten notes to let her know that they were from him. (Despite her knowing they were from him- Nanami never bought her souvenirs like Satoru did).

"Was out drinking wi'him."He mumbled drunkenly, his voice starting to trail off slightly as he lifted one of his hands to pull his shades off, setting them on the counter beside her.

"you shouldn't drink so much..."She spoke in a concerned tone. --"y-you only drink when you're upset..."She mumbled, blinking up at him with worry.

Satoru was surprised she even noticed that detail about him. He rarely drunk around y/n enough for her to even notice if he was sad or happy. He truly never noticed how observant she was.

Fueled by his drunken state, he shrugged. --"was sulking over you."He mumbled the confession. Her eyebrows pull together in confusion, forcing him to elaborate.

"love you..."He whispered again, his eyes holding a certain exhaustion. --"Didn't think you felt...same."He slurred. suddenly leaning his head down to rest against hers.

"That's why Nanami told me..." he muttered- his crystal blue eyes staring into her soul. A pang of guilt hit her.

"You were drinking because of...me?"She murmured, heart sinking slightly. He hummed, leaning down slightly so that his lips ghosted hers. She flinches slightly in surprise.

"I love you..."He whispered again, his voice sending a shiver down her spine and making her momentarily forget about his alcohol-induced breath. --"Do you love me?"He muttered, despite already knowing the answer.

He just wanted to hear her say it.

A few tense seconds pass as she feels him close in closer to her- her back pressing into the edge of the counter. There was no escaping him.

"yes..."

That singular world was all the confirmation he needed to fully close the gap between them. His lips met hers in a desperate embrace, his hands moving from the edges of the counter to slide up her arms and to her face.

The second their lips touched, she held her breath- heart pausing with fright and anxiety. Satoru had wanted to kiss her for so long and he was making sure that she knew that by how fast his lips moved desperately with hers.

Slowly, her heart started to calm as it seemed to beat in synchronisation with his. And despite wanting to screw her face up at the taste of sake on his lips- she just couldn't bring herself to break from his embrace and instead slid her hands up to his white fluffy hair.

The once sweet kiss slowly started to turn heated as she lightly tugged at his white locks. A groan leaves his mouth, hands suddenly sliding down to her thighs.

A noise of surprise leaves her lips as she feels him suddenly pick her up into his arms, their lips disconnecting momentarily. He lifts her up onto the kitchen counter, parting her legs with his hands so he could stand between them.

Her chest started to heave again- this time from a lack of breath. Not that, that stopped her when he smashed his lips back onto hers. Heat rises to her cheeks in surprise when feeling his tongue start to poke around the space between her lips.

And against her better judgment- she parted her lips, allowing the pink muscle to slip into her mouth.

Satoru rested his hands on her hips, fingers bunching up the fabric of her shorts as he grunts. The addition of his tongue plus the grip on her hips has a soft moan coming from her- so quiet that Satoru barely even caught it.

The noise eggs him on. He disconnects their lips to press open-mouthed kisses to the naval of her neck. Short gasps leaves her lips as she feels him start to suck a bruise into her skin.

The pleasure she got from that move is what ultimately made her eyes widen as she suddenly remembered how they got into this whole situation in the first place.

"n-no.."She mumbled softly as Satoru continued to press wet kisses across her neck. She swallows and drops her hands to his shoulders so she can push him back lightly.

"Satoru you're drunk..."She mumbled, a little out of breath due to the making out. She wanted this to go further, obviously, but Satoru was still very drunk. He's not sober enough to consent.

"I know.." he mumbled, attempting to go back to kissing her neck. She shook her head and pushed him back again. --"No, honey- you're not sober."She mumbled softly- lifting her hands to rest on his cheeks- holding his head in place.

A short smile appears on his face. --"You called me honey..."He trailed off. Her cheeks heat as she shook her head in amusement. Her eyes go back over to the glass of water she poured him a while ago.

"How about you drink some water and you can crash here, okay?"She offers. He eyes her for a moment before leaning in and pressing a quick kiss to her lips- pulling back with a nod.

"Okay."

He took a step back, giving her the space to jump down from the counter. As he grabbed the cup of water she grabbed ahold of the handgun she had put on the counter.

She grabs his wrist and pulls him gently with her upstairs as he sips on the water. The second they are in her bedroom, she walks over to her bedside desk and hides the gun again.

Satoru watched her, a dopey smile on her face. --"Can't believe you own a gun..."He mumbled, taking another sip of his water. She shrugs and heads over to her wardrobe.

"Can't be too careful around here.."She spoke as she searched through the clothes that were hung up. Smiling softly, she spun around with a pile of clothes.

Satoru eyed the clothes and grinned. --"Y'know I sometimes only left clothes here so I'd have an excuse to come back."He confesses. He then furrows his eyebrows the second the confession leaves his lips.

She raises her eyebrows in amusement and walks towards him. --"That was very truthful of you."She spoke, snickering softly. He gets over the shock of his own words quickly and goes straight back to his cocky self.

"Yeah. Got to give you something to wear when you're missing me."He spoke, smirking. An affectionate smile appears on her face as she shakes her head and hands him the pile of clothes, taking the empty cup back from him.

"Y'know where the bathroom is."She stated, patting his shoulder. He hummed and moved past her. He suddenly paused and then spun back around to press an obnoxious kiss to her cheek.

y/n scrunched her nose up, lifting a hand to wipe at the slobbery kiss he had left on her cheek as he disappeared into the bathroom.

Now that she was alone- she took the moment to grin giddily and swat her hands in the air excitedly. Was this really happening? She lifted a hand to rest over her mouth- another hand on her hip as she grinned happily.

After a second, she calms her racing heart and walks over to fix the sheets on her bed. She wasn't sure why but she felt the need to make the bed look presentable despite knowing that the sheets were going to get messed up anyway.

As she's smoothing out the sheets- the bathroom door opens and out walks a yawning Satoru. She straightens up when she sees him, pupils dilating at the very sight of him.

His blue eyes lock onto her and he walks over to her. His rapidly approaching figure has her eyes widening in surprise as he suddenly wraps his arms around her and pulls her down onto the bed with him.

A laugh bubbles from her lips as he hugged her tightly against him- nuzzling his cheek against the top of her head. He groaned seconds late though as he feels his stomach do a flip at the sudden falling action.

"ugh, that wasn't a good idea..."He groaned to himself causing her to laugh softly and roll away from him. --"I'm going to get you some more water for in the morning, 'kay?"She told him softly as she stood to her feet.

Satoru rested his hands behind his head as he looked at her. --"You're coming back, right?"He questioned. A soft smile appears on her face as she nodded her head.

"I'll be back in a second."

She disappears from the bedroom leaving Satoru alone with his drunken thoughts. He had been alone in her bedroom before but this time it felt different. Everything was different now.

He took the opportunity to take in every detail of her bedroom like it was the first time he'd ever seen it. Her walls were coloured lilac with many photos of herself with family members littering her desks.

Her bedsheets were avocado patterned and her bed was filled with cushions and stuffed animals. Though his favourite part of her bedroom had always been the massive pin board on her desk.

The pin board was covered in tons of pictures of herself, Gojo and Nanami. Gojo had never been the jealous type but he wouldn't deny that he felt incredible knowing that she had more photos with Gojo than she did with anyone else.

"Right-"He snaps out of his thoughts as y/n walks back into the room, a tall glass of chilled water in one hand. A packet of pain killers and his shades (that he had forgotten to lift when going back upstairs) in her other hand.

"take two of these-"She waves the packet of painkillers at him with a soft smile, --"if you start to get a headache."She informs him, walking over to set the objects onto the bedside desk closest to Satoru.

Satoru smiled in response, feeling himself beginning to sober up as he took a few sips of the water she had brought him. --"I've been hungover before, sweetheart."He mumbled in amusement as she climbed into the bed beside him.

She lifts a hand to rub the back of her neck awkwardly with a short laugh. --"sorry..."She mumbled. He only shook his head and leaned back into the pillows, opening an arm for her.

This was the part she was actually least nervous about. She and Satoru had cuddled before- just never in this context. A soft sigh leaves her lips and she leans down to rest on his chest after flicking out the lamp.

They adjust their legs to pull the covers over their bodies, his arm wrapping around her shoulders as her head rested on his chest. A small chuckle leaves her lips.

"You're heart is racing, satoru..."She mumbled through the silence. --"that's because of you, darling."He spoke in a flirty tone leaving her to giggle in response and nuzzle her face against his chest.

Satoru sighs happily and leans his chin against the top of her head, silence falling over them.

"Goodnight, Satoru..."Her quiet tired voice spoke out, her arm wrapping around his torso in a tight grin. A soft sigh leaves his lips as he presses a chaste kiss to her head of hair.

"Goodnight, love."

Surprisingly, y/n fell asleep before Satoru did. His heart was racing too much for him to fall asleep. He didn't blame her for being so tired, though- he had woke her up early this morning with his drunken shenanigans.

His arm tightened around her as he smiled. He finally had her in his arms and he didn't plan to ever let her go.